Whisper to a Scream
by Synful92
Summary: Going to college is supposed to be a do over, a new start. From the time you set foot on campus, you can be anyone you want to be. Aria Montgomery flies across country with her friends, leaving Rosewood behind but she still can't let go of her past. What happens when they meet their new roomies from Lima, Ohio? Love? Drama? Memories to last a lifetime? Slight AU.
1. Chapter 1

_**Chapter One**_

* * *

_**Flashback**_

_It was like slow motion. Everything, our movements, our emotions, our reactions, everything seemed so surreal. Nightmare doesn't even begin to describe what this was. Sounds were muffled. Emotions were high. Even though I was there experiencing this myself, it still felt like an out of body experience. _

_The sound of a car door echoes through my head. Today was supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life. Today was the day I graduated. Smiles, butterflies, and talks about what the future held. It was exciting stuff. My friends and I decided not to have our own graduation parties, but in turn show up to everyone else's. But today was not that day. _

_Ezra made his way to my parent's front porch. Hands shoved in pockets, eyes cast downward, and slowly making his way toward me. Nervous. It's like the understatement of the century. What I'm feeling right now, in this moment, is far beyond nervous. It's indescribable. He looks up to me with a shy smile, words are exchanged, mouths are moving but I hear nothing. _

_Hurt. Confused. Angry. How didn't I see this coming? Our exchange wasn't short by any means. The Levy breaks, tears begin to fall. This is all too much, too soon. It doesn't have to be this way. We don't have to break up. We could be one of the couples who make it, one of the couples who beat the odds and prove the world, science, whoever wrong. _

_Ezra takes a step forward, arms spread wide. A hug?! He wants a hug at a time like this? Without second thought I push him away with everything my tiny body would allow. That was a blow to his heart. He walks forward again and envelops me in a tight embrace. This time I can't fight him off, this time I don't want to. I hold on to him for dear life, not wanting him to go, not wanting this to be over. We look at each other. Eyes red, breathing uneven, cheeks stained with dry tears, as more continue to fall. _

_"I love you." Ezra says through labored sobs. He leans down and kisses my forehead. With one last hug, he pulls away and makes his way down the porch stairs, never turning around. And just like that, he was gone before I could even say it back. _

_"I love you, too."_

_**End Flashback**_

* * *

_**Present Day**_

"Mmmm. No! Ezra!" I silently choke out, snapping out of my light doze. _Are you serious?!,_ I think to myself. _Not again_. It's been months since Ezra and I've broken up and I constantly have that scene on loop in my head, a nightmare that never ends.

Like the true gentleman he's not, he decided that it would be best to break my heart right after graduation. And to think that I could have loved someone so heartless! I'm not sure why but I feel someone shaking me lightly.

"Ma'am? Ma'am," my eyes shoot open and I see a wide-eyed flight attendant standing over me, "I'm going to need you to fasten your seatbelt. We're about to land?" I just stare, hearing what she's saying but not really comprehending what's going on. Within seconds, my brain catches up with my ears and I remember where I am. Flight 3840, Destination: College.

From my left I hear people chuckling. No surprise here, Hanna and Spencer have their eyes locked on me trying to suppress their laughter.- obviously failing, when Hanna's head falls back letting out a loud laugh. Spencer soon follows. Emily on the other hand is oblivious, headphones blasting in her ears, and blocking out the rest of the world. Flying always makes her a bit jumpy, not to mention nauseous. We're not completely sure why she chose the window seat but one simply does not question Emily, especially these days.

"You okay there, buddy?" Hanna asks, still laughing. "I don't know what you were dreaming about but you were totally into it. It was something dirty, wasn't it?"

"No. No it wasn't." I say, slightly annoyed. For the last couple of months I've been overly bitchy; just down right mean, actually. It's not like I mean it, but with everything that's happened I just can't find my way back to the old me, and believe me I've tried.

"Look I'm sorry, okay? I know that we sometimes get these urges. Sometimes we have incredibly hot dreams. Sometimes they're even wet, but on a PLANE? Really, Ar?" Hanna says through muffled laughs.

"Are you done now?" I say sending her a glare.

"Aria, it's been months. He left you and I know it's hard. I know you loved him but don't let what he's done to you hold you back. Don't let yourself think that he was the best part of you. _You_ are the best part of you. You don't need him. You've never needed him." Spencer says to me as she holds my hands in hers. "He's the idiot. He's the asshole."

"Not to sound pathetic or anything, but what if he was the best part of me? What if I can't move on? I love him, Spence. It's been months, I know, but I just don't think I can get over him. I can't let him go, no matter how bad I want to."

Hanna chimes in, "Look, Ezra was great. He was good looking, smart, fun-." Hanna stops to think for a second before frantically waving her hand in the air, swatting away her next point, "Well, you thought he was funny. He was great, but maybe he wasn't the one. We're on a plane, heading across the country where there is a hot guy on every corner. We're young, smart, and about to be the hottest girls the campus has ever seen. Get. On. Our. Level."

I can't help but laugh as I pull both Spencer and Hanna into a warm embrace. We stay like this for a moment before Hanna pulls away and looks at me.

"And if I have to, during Christmas Break, I will fly down to Rosewood and hand deliver my fist to his face. Merry Christmas!"

And with that we all burst into a fit of laughter. Emily joins in as well, which is weird because she's been completely zoned out for the majority of the trip. I look to her earphones and follow the chord downward to see where it's plugged in... And it's not. The input jack was dangling above the ground. Emily must have sensed my eyes on here because we quickly made eye contact and she smiled.

"Em? How long have you been music free?" I asked. Hoping that she didn't hear the beginning of our conversation.

"Well...," she says with a sly smirk. "I'd say since about when you started moaning. Out loud might I add? The old guy across the aisle from you kept shuffling in his seat and licking his lips. He was really into it. So much so, he had to excuse himself to the bathroom. Twice." Emily said as she laughed.

"I. Was. Not. Moaning." I whine.

"Yeah, tell that to the guy in row 27, seat H." Spencer winks at me.

All three of my friends burst into laughter and I find myself just wanting to crawl under a rock, or my seat, or wherever. Although I can't see them right now, I know that my cheeks are beyond red right now. Crimson even. I lift my hoodie over my head to block out my friend's laughter and to hide my face. Just as they begin to settle down the pilot's voice comes over the intercom.

"We advise that everyone fasten their seatbelts, move their seats into an upright position, and to please turn off all electronic devices. We are now preparing to land. Thank you."

* * *

_**A/N: Um... So yeah... That was that. This is my first FanFic EVER (I know! Talk about nerve-wracking! ), so let me know what you think? Should I keep this going or...?**_

_**Be honest... but please, be gentle with me!**_

_**Xoxo, Syn92.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter Two**_

* * *

"I hopped off the plane at LAX with a dream and my cardigan. Welcome to land of fame excess, whoa, am I gonna fit in? Jumped in cab, here I am for the first time, look to my right and I see the Hollywood sign..." Hanna screams at the top of her lungs as we exit the terminal.

"HANNA, PLEASE!" Spencer yells, apparently having enough of Hanna's singing. It's apparent that Hanna doesn't give a damn because she sticks her tongue out at Spencer before she continues the verse.

"This is all so crazy. Everybody seems so famous. My tummy's turning and I'm feeling kinda home sick-." Hanna stops and with an amused expression on her face points to the rest of us hoping we'll join it. I crack a smile and oblige.

"Too much pressure and I'm nervous!", we shout.

"That's when the taxi man, turns on the radio-." Emily joins in, sounding just as bad as us.

"And a Jay-Z song was on-."

"And a Jay-Z song was on! And a Jay-Z song was on!" Spencer sang out loud. I was surprised. That girl really has some pipes.

Everyone bursts into laughter, enjoying the moment, until we realize that the airport is dead silent. Well, everyone but Spence. Hanna and Emily pause and look around. Hanna's eyes look like they are about to fall out of her head and Emily's usually tanned cheeks are bright red. I slow down my laughter as I glance around, locking eyes with a few strangers passing by, all with amused expressions. One little girl looks afraid.

Spencer unknowingly continues as she begins to sway to the tune. "So I put my han-."

"Um, Spence? Spencer?" Emily forces out out through gritted teeth, trying not to cause any more unnecessary attention to our group. Spencer is so caught up in Miley Cyrus that she doesn't even hear Emily call her.

Spencer starts to shimmy and shake. The airport is at a standstill as they continue to stare, point, and laugh at Spencer (and her lack of rhythm, but don't tell her I said that). She drops it low, picks it up slow, but before she had a chance to roll it all around and pop that "thing", I turn and stop her.

"Spence, whoa! Calm down. People are staring."

Spence stops and takes in her surroundings. Clearing her throat, Spencer pulls her arm from my weak grasp to readjust her blazer, and with her signature goofy grin, points to the arrowed sign above our heads, "So, um, baggage claim?"

I nod and we all follow her lead. As we walk, I take my phone out of my pocket and turn it on. I haven't checked it in awhile, might as well see if anything's going on.

The phone switches on and- yep, I was right, _13 notifications._ I scroll through, most of them are from Facebook, the remaining few from school. I guess I'll check Facebook first.

_**Spencer Hastings tagged you in a photo.**_

_**Hanna Marin, Spencer Hastings, and 3 others commented on Spencer Hastings' photo of you.**_

I open the notification and there I am. Looking a hot mess. Eyes squeezed shut, mouth hanging open, and drool running down my left cheek. Oh so sexy. Not. I'm horrified. No that's not the right word. Mortified.

I scroll down to check the comments.

_**Spencer Hastings at 11:13 AM**_  
_Ar, you're drooling..._  
_**Hanna Marin at 11:14 AM**_  
_Bahahaha! Ew._  
_**Caleb Rivers at 11:26 AM**_  
_LLO_  
_**Caleb Rivers at 11:27 AM**_  
_LOL*_  
_**Hanna Marin at 11:27 AM**_  
_Smooth..._  
_**Caleb Rivers at 11:31AM**_

_Hanna, Whatever. And __Spencer, Did you check to see if she's still breathing?_

_**Spencer Hastings at 11:43 AM**_

_Of course... but, if that wasn't enough, I'm sure her moaning is as good of an indicator as any. Haha_

_**Caleb Rivers at 11:44 AM**_  
_Moaning?_  
_**Hanna Marin at 11:47 AM**_  
_Yep. The good kind though... I think. o_O_  
_**Holden Strauss at 11:49 AM**_  
_… Should I even ask? _  
_**Spencer Hastings at 11:55 AM**_  
_I wouldn't. Lol._  
_**Emily fields at 12:03 PM**_  
_Oh My God, Guys! Take this down. _

"Wow, guys! Way to take advantage when I'm unconscious." I say in mock irritation. They all stop walking and turn to me, looking confused. Rolling my eyes, I hold up my phone, showing them the picture. Hanna tries to hold back her laugh (but fails), Spencer walks away with a huge smile, and Emily avoids eye contact like it's the plague.

"Nice, Guys. Just nice." I say through a laugh. Spencer turns around and she has this weird look in her eyes. If I'm being honest, it kind of freaks me out, but I guess I'll play along. "You okay, Spence?"

"Yeah, Ar. I'm okay. I'm more than okay." She quickly averts her eyes and I'm pretty sure that she's blushing. Before I can make sure that my eyes and/or brain aren't playing tricks on me, Spencer pulls me into a bone crushing hug.

"It's just good to see you smiling again.

* * *

We finally make it to the baggage claim. Thank God.

"So, are you guys excited to meet your new roommates?" Emily asks as she claims her bag.

"Yeah, actually our roommates seem kind of cool. They Skyped us the other day and together we went online to shop for house stuff. Best. Roommates. Ever. Our one roommate, Benz, at least I think that's her name..." Hanna trails off.

She then looks to me for verification. How the hell should I know? I just shrug my shoulders as I continue to look through my notifications. She waves me off and continues,"Anyway, she really has style. Other than that I don't know who else we're sharing the apartment with."

"Quinn and Brittany?" I say, unsure.

"Yeah, our roommates were pretty cool too on the phone. One of the girls kept going on and on about musicals, while another was yelling "Shut up, Berry" in the background. It was weird," Emily shrugs, " Other than that they all seem nice. I just hope they like us."

"And if not... we could go back on Craigslist, and try searching for _new _roommates..." I suggest.

"What? No way!" Emily says, swatting my arm as we fall into laughter. "I'd rather _not _wake up bound to my bed by neck ties."

"Who knows, it still could happen." Spencer deadpans.

"Y'know at first I thought that Craigslist was just a bunch of women showing their fortune cookies, but recently I realized there's quite a lot of melons on there too..." Hanna says nonchalantly, looking down at her nails.

We all look her.

"_What_?", I ask, shaking my head in disbelief.

"What?", she replies, looking at all of our incredulous faces. "I get bored!"

* * *

_**Santana's P.O.V.**_

So, I'm sitting here listening to Berry go on and on about the proper way to greet our new roommates, who might I add, are nowhere near arriving. I mean please, they just landing and it's noon, the 405 is gonna be killer. Kurt and I have blocked her out about half an hour ago.

Our apartment is bare. No furniture, no anything. We (No wait, I mean _they, *_Cue sarcastic eye roll*) decided to wait, do "roommate bonding", shop together... That, was Hummel's bright idea. I honestly have no say in any of the decision making around here. It's bullshit. I just hope that once the new chicks get here, they will help me out vote the Streisand twins over there. Actually, I take that back. I just hope that they help me overrule Man-hands; Kurt is pretty neutral.

"Are you two even listening to me?", A frustrated Rachel says.

"Not really."

"No."

"I am just pointing out that we must casually greet our new roommates." She continues, moving her hands emphatically, and _God_ her voice is needling into my brain. "We have to be friendly and greet them with the utmost respect, Santana. They have to feel comfortable, and loved, and-."

"Hold up, please, Berry Cakes. We don't even _know_ these chicks yet. What if we hate them, or worse, what if they're like you. I can only handle you in small doses."

"Thank you, Santana. That will be enough." Rachel tell me dismissively.

"Lady lips, you have anything to add?" I say glancing at Hummel.

Shaking his head he sighs, "I just hope they're normal. Honestly, one Rachel Berry is quite enough."

"Damn straight." I high five Kurt and we both laugh. Rachel, on the other hand, looks pissed.

"Have you heard from them since that day? I mean, you were kind of monopolizing the phone. I couldn't even introduce myself." Kurt says, looking through his iPhone. "I mean this is the only proof I have of their existence." He holds up his phone.

I run over to him and snatch the phone out of his hands. This is the first time I'm seeing them. "This Spencer chick is kinda hot." I say scrolling through her profile pictures. "Her friend is moving in with her right? What's her name?"

"Um... Emily." Kurt answers.

I go back to Kurt's feed and before I go to his friend list, I see a disgustingly lovely wall post from Blaine. "Hey, your honey posted on your wall.", I say smugly.

He perks up, excited now. "Really what did he say?"

"You want me to read it outloud" I say with a smirk.

"Yes!"

"Alright, but I'm warning you, it's really dirty." He gives me the 'Yeah right' look, so I continue. Let's ruffle his feathers a little bit.

"Ooh, Boo. I miss you so much. It's weird that you're not here. It's hard to believe that just a couple of hours ago you were right in front of me. I love you so much and... I still think you are the sexiest piece of ass I have ever laid my eyes on, even when I was wearing that eye patch, you were a fine piece of man meat, I can't wait to get you allllll alone so we can-" I don't even get to finish 'the post' because like the Flash, he runs across the room and snatches the phone from my hands.

"I wasn't finished!" I say with a pout.

"Good. That will be enough of that." He looks over the post.

"Fine. I lied, BUT he did say that he missed you and he loved you, or whatever."

"Thought so." He grumbles.

"Can you at least pull up that Emily chick, I wants to see her, and I wants to see her now."

"Fine. You know it wouldn't hurt to pick up a book sometime, maybe a dictionary. I'm 103% sure that the way you use 'wants' is not grammatically correct. I don't know why you insist on using it. All. Of. The. Time."

"Whatever. Pull up the damn picture.", I say, crossing my arms. "I'm about this close to going all Lima Heights. Okay, well maybe not ALL Lima Heights, but next person to piss me off is going to feel the wrath."

Wrath? Since when do I use the word 'wrath'? Oh my God, 4 hours of living with these two and I'm already speaking their native tongue.

"What's the magic word?"

"Dammit, Kurt!" I growl. He doesn't move, he just stares at me with an eyebrow raised.

"Fine. Pretty damn please with a freaking cherry on top." I sigh.

"Say it like you mean it."

I've had enough. I make my way over to Lady Hummel and smack him upside the head.

"Ow! Satan, watch your claws! I was kidding!" He pulls up Emily's picture and my mouth drops. She is gorgeous. Before I can even control myself, a smirk stretches across my face and my right eyebrow is raised. Emily is hot. Spencer is hot. I'm hot. Well, well, well, it looks like living here will be a lot better than I thought.

Kurt pulls the phone away from my line of sight and begins to scroll through his Facebook feed.

I sigh and lean back against the wall enjoying the silence.

Wait. _Silence_?

"Okay hold up, it's quiet. Too quiet. Where the hell is Berry?" I say, scanning the room. Kurt glances up and does the same.

"Rachel?!" He calls out. Nothing.

"Berry!" I yell. Nothing.

"Hide and seek is over!" I shout, listening for a reply, but still, nothing.

Just as I'm about to do my victory dance, Berry storms through the front door with Q, 'Cedes, and Britt. I can't help but smile at the fact that these three live in the same building as us, only on the floor above. They don't know it yet, but best believe if Rachel becomes too much, well... Rachel, I will be crashing at their place. Like I said, I can only handle Berry in small doses.

Before we all packed our bags for the sweet life in sunny California, we all put our names in a hat. I ended up with Berry and Hummel. Of course I threw a fit but no one would trade with me. I was stuck.

"Hey Britt-Britt! Aretha. Fabgay." I nod. Quinn just rolls her eyes as she pulls me into a hug.

"Satan-na." Mercedes deadpans.

"Touché." I say with a smirk.

Mercedes chuckles, "Come here, girl. Aretha wants a hug."

I walk over to her and throw my arms around her. Yeah, we glee clubbers had our issues over the years, but now, these people are my family. I love them am I'm not even ashamed to say it out loud. Yeah, yeah, Santana has a heart. Who knew?

Most of the glee club decided on schools in the big Cali. Well, besides Finn. He had this genius idea to join the Army. Like, seriously? Don't get me wrong, I'm all for serving your country, but _Finn_... in the _Army_? Like, what fuckery is that? He has boobs! Trust me, I know. I've seen AND jiggled them.

"San!" Looking up from her phone as if she's just noticed where she was (Which isn't entirely impossible), Brittany sees me and comes running, lifting me off of the ground and spinning me. "It's been forever!"

"It's only been a couple of hours, Britt-Britt." I laugh, kissing her cheek.

"Okay." Rachel begins, and I metally face palm. "Listen up my fellow glee club-"

"Girl, hush. We are not in the choir room anymore." Mercedes states, obviously annoyed.

"Alright, My fellow-," Rachel squints in thought, "Former glee clubbers-."

Quinn scoffs, "Wow. Very original."

"Anyway", Rachel continues on, and I can tell she's nervous (Rachel Berry? Nervous? Wow!) "As I realize that you guys still don't appreciate my impeccable leadership, not to mention my oustanding organizational ability, I have an announcement to make. I texted Spencer. I advised her, and all of her friends, to meet us here." She glances down at a watch that I'm sure I saw once on _The Sound of Music_.

"They will be here in approximately 3... 2..."

_**Knock. Knock. Knock. **_

"Scary." Brittany says barely above a whisper.

We all look at the door, every single one of us afraid to move.

* * *

_**A/N: There you have it guys, chapter 2! Let me know what you think. Sorry for the long wait, between school and work, it's pretty hard to update as fast as I wanted to. Continue to review and if you want to see anything happen in the upcoming chapters, feel free to let me know. Like I've said, this is my first fanfic and my first time really writing in novel form (I guess that's what it's considered), I normally write screenplays. Also, sorry if the pace of this story is a little slow right now. Don't worry, it will pick up soon. Oh! Before I forget. Shout out to my sister and unofficial beta, kcuffykidd96 (You should totally check out her story "Whiplash"... It's awesome!). Catch you on the flip.**_

_**-Syn92**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter Three**_

* * *

_**Santana POV**_

It has to have been at least 45 minutes and we're all here, staring at each other. No one has said a word other than 'Hey' or 'Come on in'(both of which were me, by the way). I guess that when the four of them walked in we looked a little, to put it nicely, crazy as hell. I mean what does one expect when you tell people to 'act natural'? (That was also my bad.)

Now, when someone tells you to 'act natural', you automatically do something so ridiculously awkward that it makes you look incredibly, incredibly stupid. And after I yelled it, there was no taking it back.

Quinn and Britt were in the center on the living room doing 'yoga'; at least I think that's what was going on. I mean, it was either that, or Quinn was choking, because the position the two of them were in was just... no.

Cedes was propped against the wall pretending to text. And yes, I do mean "pretending". I'm talking forcing laughs while throwing her head back (loudly might I add) pointing to her phone screen, looking a hot damn mess; The whole nine yards. Really? She could've won an Oscar. And I mean that in the worst possible way.

Kurt was 'naturally' lounging across the kitchen counter, fanning himself. Yes, _fanning_. Weirdo.

And Berry, oh man, Berry, as soon as the words left my lips she was off, prancing through the apartment singing. But not just any song. Oh no. Of all the songs on the Berry Broadway Musical Spectacular Playlist, Rachel chooses a song that I'm 96% sure that she's never really stopped to listen to, because if she had, she'd freak the hell out. Do the words, "Ride It, My Pony" ring any bells? Genuwine? Thought so.

I couldn't help but laugh out loud at these goofballs as I made my way across the room, praying to every holy deity in the book that my new roommates were at least half sane. I mean, what kind of people was I stuck with here?

Opening the door, I was met with four pairs of eyes. We all just stared at each other, looking nervous, and I for one had no clue how I was supposed to greet them. Was I supposed to wave? Invite them in to their own apartment? Hug them? Dammit! Who in the hell thought to send _me_, of all people to greet the new people we'd be living with? On top of the pressure of trying to make a good impression, Berry was fucking with my head. I could hear her voice in the back of my mind, going:

"_We must _casually_ greet our new roommates. We have to be friendly and greet them with the utmost respect..." Blah. Blah. Blah. _

That was seriously all I was hearing. REPEATEDLY.

And so here we are now. Silent.

Not able to take this staring game any longer, I'm just about to speak up, not because I want to, but because this is just awkward. But of course, before a word can pass over my (beautiful) latina lips, there's Rachel, stepping forward and taking the lead, completely shutting down my moment. Not that I care, I'm actually kind of thankful. I was only going to lovingly caution them not to touch Lady Lips' and Berry's beloved Barbra Streisand collection without latex gloves anyway.

"I want to be the first to say, welcome everyone. I know that we've all just came," Rachel pauses and smiles creepily at everyone in the room.

Brittany uses this pause as her opening, "That's what she said."

"Wanky." I chime in.

The room is filled with soft chuckles, one of the new girls, the blonde, gives Britt a high five, only to be pulled suddenly into a hug. Brittany's always been that way, friendly and loving no matter what the circumstance, or who it may be. No, like seriously. She once kissed a guy dressed as a slice of pizza (on the mouth might I add), just because he gave her a 'buy one, get one free' coupon. It was a bit gross. I'm not even gonna lie.

Rachel mindlessly continued, "Yes, that is exactly what I've said."

And once again the group falls into laughter. I for one am about to piss myself. I mean come on. I love Rachel, I do, but sometimes she could be so clueless that it makes you want to scream.

"Really, Rach? Really?" Kurt deadpans.

"I don't understand." Rachel shrugs as she continues, "Moving on. I think that we should all introduce ourselves. That way we can all feel comfortable and secure around each other." Rachel gestures animatedly. "Santana, would you like to begin?"

"Not really. No." I didn't mean for it to come out bitchy, but it did. Great.

"Please? She asks sincerely, looking up at me with semi-desperate eyes.

"Fine," I say with a sigh. I look around at the group. "I'm Santana."

They all look at me to continue, but like honestly, what more am I supposed to say? I like long walks on the beach, dinner by candlelight, and getting my sweet lady kisses on all of the time? No way. I'm not about to pour my heart out, especially when my friends should know me by now. They other girls are gonna have to find out the hard way, just like everyone else.

"Do you wish to elaborate?" Rachel asks.

"No."

"Lovely." Rachel sighs and looks around imploringly. "Would anybody like to volunteer to go next?"

Silence.

Quinn clears her throat, and when no one steps forward she continues, "Alright, I guess I'll go then. My name is Quinn."

"Hi, Quinn" We all say in unison, and God if this doesn't feel like a damn AA meeting.

The introductions carry on for several minutes. No one really wanted to share _too_ much about themselves, but other than me and Quinn, the others at least said more than just their names. There were a few exceptions though, of course. Ya know, those brave souls who just love life and don't give a damn what they tell you? Yeah, there were a few of those.

For example, I learned from Spencer's close-to-novel-length monologue that she is an avid dork like Quinn (not that there is anything wrong with that!). I learned all the in-depth intricacies of Hanna's love for Channing Tatum. She went on and on about him for like ever. Yeah, gross. Also, when Rachel practically laid out her whole life story, she may have alluded to being a lady lover.

She didn't say it directly, and I wasn't really listening (I mean hello, it's Berry), but I think I'd heard the words Finn, breakup, ass, true self, gay, pride, Tegan and Sara, fell, vanilla, closet, raining on parades, and maybe something about her dads (but that's beside the point).

So naturally, I strung those words together and filled in my own blanks. Here's what I came up with:

_One day, while listening to __**Tegan and Sara**__ Rachel finally realized that she was __**gay**__. She __**broke up**__ with __**Finn**__ because, well, he's a Finn with man boobs and he sucks in bed (Trust me, I would know). So, she found her __**true self **__and __**fell **__out of the __**closet**__. Now she wants to shake her __**ass **__at the __**Pride**__**parade**__, and hopefully it doesn't __**rain.**__ And her __**dads**__ really like... __**vanilla **__pudding? _

Or something like that. I don't know, like I said, I wasn't paying much attention. But hey that's just one more person on our team, and I like it. It's also been brought to our attention that Emily, the tall, toned girl, is a swimmer. (Whew! Can someone say HAWT?!)

Once again, after everyone had said what they needed to say, we're met with an awkward silence.

"Let's Mingle!" Rachel shouts.

X

After the awkward introductions my group decides it'd be best to furnish our apartment (Surprise surprise, right?). So, here we are at some furniture store, and we're shopping shopping. Only we're not really shopping.

Spencer, Kurt, and Rachel are shopping. Emily and I were immediately put on the back burner. We've been here for over an hour and although we've tried to voice our opinion (because it's totally our place too), we've been shot down. REPEATEDLY. I'll give Spencer her props though, she tried to hear us out, or at least pretended to (Hey, that counts for something), but there's no getting through to any of them. All I'm saying, is that if the pink frill sample in Rachel's hand is anything to go by, I'll be digging lace out of my ass every time I sit down on the couch for _months_.

"Okay, so I was thinking. What if we bring New York, to L.A.!?" Kurt says clapping his hands excitedly. "I'm talking dark colors, edgy furniture, and fabulous artwork?"

"Yes! Various shades of grey, navy, and white!" Spencer chimes in.

"Come on guys, we're in L.A.? We need color!" I chime in, but why do I even bother? The U-Haul might as well be in the driveway already.

"I agree with Santana." Emily tries. She too is ignored.

"Oh my Gaga, Spencer! Genius." Rachel just about screams, and just like that, it's decided.

I look over at Emily and she looks just as miserable, if not more so, than me. "Oh my Gaga? WTF?!" I mouth, trying to lighten the mood. It works. With a small smile, Emily shrugs and nods her head.

The hell continues. I'm about 3 seconds from taking the handful of curtain texture samples from Berry's hand and showing her a new way to brush her teeth, when Emily pipes up suddenly from beside me. I'd been so lost in this furniture brothel; I'd completely forgotten she was there.

"Hey, Um, Santana?" Emily asks nervously. "Would you come with me to the bathroom?" Seeing the look of confusion on my face, she continued quickly. "I mean I know we don't really know each other and I would ask Spencer but she's in her own little decorative world..." She trails off, cheeks red and scuffing her shoe on the floor.

"Um...," I begin nervously. I mean yeah, we're roommates, but I don't even know this girl. We met on craigslist. What if she tries killing me and then flushing me?

I must take too long to answer because she immediately tries to take back everything she's said.

"Right. No, that was weird. I just- I didn't want to..." She doesn't even get a chance to finish, though, because who am I to turn down a gorgeous girl?

"No!" I say a little to eagerly. Eyes wide, and feeling like an idiot, I clear my throat and attempt to redeem myself. "I mean. Everyone has to squeeze the lemon sometime." _Squeeze the lemon? What the hell am I_ talking_ about?_

Emily just stares at me. Obviously overwhelmed by my awkward outburst, she finally mumbles a thank you as I internally kill myself twice. The rest of our group is carrying on with whatever it is they're doing, so we don't even bother letting them know we're leaving. I doubt they'd even notice. I'm still a bit nervous as we make our way towards the back of IKEA™, but I force myself to calm down and stop overthinking everything. I mean really, what's the worst that can happen?

* * *

_**Aria POV**_

I've only been in Los Angeles for a couple of hours now and so far, so good. The weather is amazing, my room is awesome, and my roommates have been nothing but friendly towards me. Los Angeles may be just what I need to take my mind off of everything that I've left behind in Pennsylvania.

As soon as we walked through the door Hanna freaked out, squealing the whole way to the aqua colored sectional in the middle of the room.

"Home." She says, throwing herself onto the couch.

"Home." I mirror, without nearly as much enthusiasm. I mean, for God's sake, it's a _couch_.

I glance around the apartment. It's huge. Vaulted ceiling, open floor plan... not to mention a killer ocean view. There's private roof access (perk of being on the top floor), 5 bedrooms, and a _loft_. Can someone say ballin'?

All of those summers where I'd had no life, busted my ass waiting tables, and barely ever slept have finally paid off. I've been saving for this for years, and now? Pshh, oh yeah baby. I don't regret a thing.

As I'm taking everything in, I hear something almost growl at me. Looking down at my stomach, I try to remember if I ate this morning, and nope, can't say that I have. I hear it again; only this time I feel something brush up against my leg and _HOLY SHIT! IT HAS FUR!_

"This place has rodents!" I bellow, launching myself onto the sofa, knocking Hanna right on her ass. I knew this was too good too be true. So there I am, perched on the edge of our upturned sofa like a maniac and screaming at the top of my lungs, and Mercedes is laughing.

"What the hell, Aria!?", Hanna shouts in disbelief, gesturing at herself now propped on her elbows on the hardwood. "These jeans are new!"

Jeans? _Jeans?!_ She cannot be serious right now. "RATS!" I scream.

Within a fraction of a second Hanna is right back on the couch with her arms around Mercedes, holding on to her for dear life. My eyes are shifting back and forth desperately searching for the illusive little vermin, but finding nothing. Of course this only adds to my hysteria, and Mercedes' expression of horror pushes me over the edge. Flopping down onto the couch with an all but devastated sob, I promptly burst into tears. My L.A. dream is ruined.

"What the hell is going on out here?!" Quinn says, running into the box filled living room. She looks at all three of us, eyes filled with worry. Placing her hands on her hips, she waits for one of us to respond. "Well?"

"R-R-R-" Mercedes tries.

"Nasty. Just Nasty. We need to leave" A wide-eyed Hanna whispers.

"Rats", I moan through my tears. "We have _rats_. Big, dirty, flea infest-"

"Oh there you are LT." Brittany says, cutting me off as she enters the room and picks up a giant ball of fur. Narrowing her eyes, "What's up with you guys? You act like you just saw a ghost."

I look to my two couch mates; Mercedes rolls her eyes, while Hanna lets out a breath. Quinn raises an eyebrow and lets out a breathy laugh.

"Is that the big, dirty, flea infested _rat_?" She points to the extremely large feline with a sarcastic laugh, and I just know my face would be glowing with shame if I weren't still getting over the terror I had just experienced.

All I can do is bite my lip and nod awkwardly through the embarrassment as I mentally bury myself.

I hear them quietly laughing. Brittany walks up to me with that _thing _in her hands. Bouncing on her tiptoes, she holds out her arms with a wide grin. "Aria, this is Lord Tubbington, LT for short, and he's my cat. He's Fantabulicious! She steps closer and whispers into my ear conspiratorially, "He's on probation. He got caught selling his body for catnip. Don't tell him I told you though. It's a secret."

I stare at her wide-eyed and the others dissolve into laughter. Again. She just nods, her bright blue eyes backing up the sincerity in her words. Quinn pats my shoulder mumbling a 'don't ask' and I don't know how, but I suppress my laughter.

"Ooh! The big scary RAT is going to get me!" Hanna says in mock horror. I shoot her a dirty look, which she just returns with a big sappy smile. There is nothing funny about rats. I stand up and attempt to straighten my clothes nonchalantly, seeking even the slightest bit of pride I could salvage from this mess and finding none. With a resigned sigh and a final (admittedly slightly resentful) glance at the ball of fluff in Brittany's arms, I join the others in the unpacking and rearrangement our apartment.

* * *

_**Santana POV**_

3 hours later and we're finally home. After the whole bathroom thing, Emily and I have been getting to know each other more. She's really cool (I _guess_) and we have a lot in common. We ended up doing our own thing, picking (normal) things out for our own rooms and leaving the others to satisfy their creepy furniture fetish in peace.

As I lay here in the middle of the wooden floor soaking up the peace and quiet, I can't help but feel like things might actually-

"What do you MEAN the sofa won't be here until Friday?!" An ear splitting shriek penetrates my uber-Yoda peace bubble, immediately piercing through my unsuspecting brain. "I'll have you know that I paid very good money for that!" Then, a touch more desperate "It's Horchow!"

Rachel is yelling at the movers and they're beyond pissed. I guess the words 'NO SAME DAY DELIVERY' mean nothing to Berry. I can't even begin to care. It's late, I'm tired, and there is way too much negative energy floating around this place. I pull out my phone and text Q.

**To: Fabgay (6:03 pm)**

**Hey, you busy?**

**Incoming: Fabgay (6:05 pm)**

**No. Why, what's up?**

**To: Fabgay (6:05 pm)**

**We just got back. Rachel has the movers setting up the majority of the apartment... And pissing them off while doing so. Was wondering if you guys wanted to help us out in the bedrooms? ;) **

"No. Not there. Would you mind shifting it a little to the left? Please" Rachel beams, apparently assuaged from the whole Horchow disaster in favor of a small brown end table with what I'm assuming is _elephant_, carved into it? Or maybe a clown? On acid? Ugh, I don't care. All I know is that only she would get excited over the placement of an end table. I can't help but to roll my eyes.

"Look, Lady. We're not damn interior designers, 'aight?" One of the men finally bellows in exasperation. "We're _movers_. We move furniture. That's what we do. We moved it, now it's your problem." The man crosses his arms.

I hear Rachel gasp and look up to see her eyes widen, and Lord if I can't see where this one's going. "Excuse me?", she says, Berry in full effect. "That's rather rude of you. I was simply asking for a favor. No need to be a diva. "

**Incoming: Fabgay (6:09pm)**

**Oh you're funny, Lopez. And you guys left around 2. You're telling me you just got back?! **

**To: Fabgay (6:09pm)**

**Three words. Berry. Hummel. Hastings.**

**Hold on a second...**

"Diva?" The man laughs.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean-." She tries quickly.

" Look, Nose. The only diva here is you. You see, I know it's hard, sitting up there on your throne," he points at the ceiling, "Trying to look over you gigantic beak, looking at all of us normal down here, but honestly, I couldn't care less. Now hand over the cash so we can be on our way."

I look up from my phone just in time to see the man and his friends smirking sarcastically at Rachel like they've just won whatever this stupid ass argument, (if you could even call it that) was about. My line of sight moves to Rach, and I swear on everything I believe in, if I see a tear fall I'm flipping out. I hear her sniffle and wipe her eyes. It's about to go down. No one talks about my hob-. I mean, my friend, like that. I'll be damned. Oh, and what's that? Hmm, yep. Looks like a tear. I wonder if these guys have ever been to Ohio. There's this really cool place there, called Lima Heights Adjacent, and I'm about to make introductions.

"Yo, Lumps the clown!", I call from my place on the floor. And it's true. This dude totally looks like a reject from a B rated Harry Potter porno. He turns away from Rachel to face me.

He takes a step closer, eyebrow raised, probably in hopes that I'd step back, but I mean come on: Santana Lopez isn't afraid of anyone. So, I stand my ground. He takes another step forward. Now we're face to face. In fact, so close, I can smell the subway he's had for lunch on his breath. Turkey Breast, lettuce, tomato, olives. Onions, and peppers. Extra mayo, and a pinch of asshole. Gross.

Rachel rushes quickly to my side, clutching desperately at my arm. "San, it's not worth it. He's not worth it. I'm fine. See?" She says, and damn it, she's still pulling on me. "San, look at me. No tears. I've been called worse. I'm fine." But I'm not having it. I cock my head to the side, full bitch face on display, and oh, _now _the guy looks scared. Ha! A little to late, bub.

"No. I'm not going to stand here and let him say that shit to you. Not on my watch. Hell no!" My temperature is rising. "He's so tough, standing over there with his buddies laughing. Right?" My phone vibrates and I throw it on the kitchen counter. Gently shaking myself out of Rachel's grip, I step forward as Rachel steps back, and her is head down but out of the corner of my eye I think I can just see a little smirk behind that screen of hair, and that powers me forward even further.

"Give me one good reason that I shouldn't explode you right here, right now?" I can taste the acid lacing every one of my words.

The guy tries to regain his confidence, but he's clearly failing, and grasping for anything really. "Oh, I get it. You two are a pair of dykes. Wow! Standing up for your fugly girl over there, huh Butchy?" He laughs triumphantly, thinking he's won, and points at Rachel.

And that's all it took. Before he even saw me move, I'm on the guy, knocking him to the floor. I wrap one hand around his flubbery little throat and use the other to brush my now wildly fallen hair over one shoulder. His eyes are wide in shock and terror as I pull back my fist and begin to scream at him.

"¡Puta, recupéralo. ¡Llevarla de nuevo antes de que yo tu asno! ¿Cómo se atreve usted a hablar de mi amigo?!"

My fist is literally an inch away from bashing his face in. I want to hit him. I want to hit him so bad that my fist is literally trembling behind my head. I mean, yes, I can be a crazy bitch but I do now how to constrain myself.

For now.

"¿Me dan una buena razón por la que no me debería impulsar su asno ahora mismo? Una maldita razón. ¿Cómo se atreve usted hablar de Rachel! Usted no la conozco. Usted no sabe lo que de ella ha sido a través. Usted no sabe su vida, que ha tenido que soportar dicks como usted cada día crecen. Yo solía ser uno de ellos, pero no más. Defiendo mis amigos. Apoyo mi familia. ¡Rachel es mi familia!"

"Get this bitch off of me!" He's beginning to struggle, but let him try. Santana's a bitch? Never.

Tightening my grip on his throat, I scream "¡Carajo!"

And just like that, my constraint is gone. My knuckles crash into his face. One time. Two times. Three. It hurt like a bitch but I was too angry to stop. The force of my blows knocked his head back against the floor viciously with loud _thunks_.

"KURT?! SOMEONE?!" Rachel screams. She's crying even more now. I have to stop but I can't. Distracted by Rachel's cry, I hesitate for just a moment, but it's a moment too long. Before I even know what's happening, I'm being flipped, and then I'm on the ground.

I feel him hitting me, but I'm not entirely sure what's going on. I mean, I'm pretty disoriented. Getting punched in the face does that to people I guess.

I feel my lip split. My ribs are on fire. I'm struggling with all my might, but shit this guy is _heavy_. His crushing weight is pinning me to the floor and fighting is useless.

His fists are colliding with my ribs and face, and although they're wildly thrown and without full force, he's strong. I'm trying to block him but he's beating my ass. So finally I have to go for the low blow. Working my knee up between us (and being battered by his fists all the while) I use everything I've got to knee him in the nuts. That does the trick. With a horrible grimace he stops, fist in mid swing, and through the blood I see him rear back slightly, clutching at his crotch and losing his firm position over me as he buckles over in pain. Now's my chance.

Pulling my leg to my chest (and yes, I _am_ that flexible) I kick the asshole square in the face, Keds and all. The apartment goes silent as the sound of his nose cracking echoes throughout. Even Rachel stops wailing. I push his now dead weight off of me and throw his unconscious body to the floor, straddling him wearily just in case he had any ideas about waking up any time soon. I look up at his little mover guy friends, who are staring at me in shock and awe, and snarl with all the remaining strength I had. "Want some pretty boys?"

"Hey, Rachel. Kurt went out for snacks. He said something about a movie ni-. What the hell?" Spencer stills, taking in the scene, which I can only imagine.

"Oh My God, SANTANA! Santana, stop!" Emily cries out, eyes wide and hands clasped over her head in shock.

"Spencer" Rachel says cautiously, staring at me with wide eyes. "Spencer, I need you to call Quinn. The number should be in here." Rachel tosses her phone to Spencer, eyes never leaving my face.

"Is she 'Fabgay'?!" Spencer yells, fumbling with the phone desperately.

"No. No, she's not gay." Rachel counters, shaking her head and screwing up her face in confusion. "Why does that even matter right now? Just call her!"

**To: Fabgay (6:49 pm)**

**Get down here NOW!**

**Incoming: Fabgay (6:52 pm)**

**Chill Hopez! I'll be down in a minute.**

**To: Fabgay (6:53 pm)**

**It's Spencer! Santana is kicking some guy's ass. Get. Down. Here. NOW!**

Everything is happening so fast. For a man, I must say, this dude fights like a bitch. I feel him begin to struggle beneath me, and as I pull back my fist to knock him back into never never land, I hear Spencer screaming at someone to "Just somebody get her the hell off him please!" Then I feel people trying to pull me off of him. It's a struggle but finally I give in.

As Emily hauls me away, I realize I haven't finished with my tagline, and I heatedly shout "And that's how we do it in Lima Heights!"

"Stop the violence." Brittany lets out, and I honestly hadn't even noticed her in the room.

Quinn and Mercedes enter a moment later, Quinn's face dropped in shock at the sight of Emily hauling my bloody ass away from an semiconscious man, equally bloody, lying on the dining room floor.

"Come on, Santana. It's okay. It's Over." Hanna (at least I think that's her name) says soothingly, rubbing my arm as she joins Emily and I on the other side of the room.

My breathing is ragged. I can't see anything out of my left eye. I can feel blood seeping out of my cuts and running down my face. But I feel victorious.

The man is picking himself off the floor with the help of his friend. He wipes his face blearily and pulls out his phone, fumbling with it.

"I'm... calling... the fucking... cops!" He says through labored breaths.

"Llame a la policía! Dígales que usted acaba de ser golpeado por una chica. Eres patética!"

I can feel myself getting all riled up again, and I thank all Gods in heaven for Emily, who is now placing herself between me and him, blocking him from my view with soothing murmurs.

"Em, can you take her to the bathroom and get her cleaned please?" Quinn asks with a tired sigh. "All that blood is scaring Britt."

* * *

_**Aria POV**_

_**Flashback to moments before**_

_Quinn burst out the apartment, leaving the front door wide open. It seemed urgent, because she dropped everything in her hands without even saying anything. I looked over at Mercedes, who was sharing a look with Brittany._

_"Santana." They said simultaneously, and then they too were out the door, leaving Hanna and me completely confused._

_"What's going on?" I asked, apparently voicing Hanna's thought's because she just shook her head and put her phone into her pocket with a shrug. Standing up and tossing her coat on as she goes, Hanna strode out into the hallway after our new friends, and I followed her out the door._

_We made our way down to Spencer and Emily's place and we could hear someone screaming in Spanish before we even made it to the door, followed by "Santana, stop!"_

_We pushed through the door were met with Santana, hovering over a man with her fist held back looking for all the world like she wouldn't mind killing him. Rachel seemed paralyzed in some numb, traumatic shock, and her hands were clasped to her heart below red-rimmed eyes. I refocused on Santana then, and my heart all but stilled as I saw the blood covering her face and matted in her hair. I found myself suddenly whispering a prayer to God that she would be okay, and I forced myself to stop. Hanna looked at me in worry, then pushed her way into the apartment to join Emily, who had somehow managed to remove Santana from the man's body (Not an easy task). I was honestly stuck in some sort of shocked stupor that was lagging my muscles and making my mind spin. I mean, I'd only ever met Santana briefly but I hadn't know she had this in her. She seemed so sweet, maybe a little sarcastic, but sweet nonetheless. Seeing her like that was scary._

_**End flashback**_

We're all waiting around for the cops, and possibly the paramedics, to arrive. The man, being referred to as 'Lumps the clown' by Santana, has been crying in the corner for some time now. I'm trying my hardest not to laugh but I can't help it: The dude got beat by a girl. It's hilarious.

"I hope protecting your little annoying girlfriend over there was worth it, J-Lo," he suddenly whines out. "You'll be doing a good amount of time."

"Oh, J-Lo? Really funny, douchebag. Hilarious actually. Is that the best you can do? I just hope for your sake you don't drop the soap."

"I don't think he'll have to worry about that." Hanna adds. "I mean have you seen his face.

A couple of chuckles are heard around the room.

"Shut up, Barbie." He growls.

At that Santana begins to rise menacingly, causing the guy to squirm backwards even further, but Brittany and Emily pull her back, much to his relief. This guy is just asking for round 2. Idiot.

"Watch it, asshole." Quinn walks over to Lumps, pointing a stern finger in his face. He audibly gulps. She steps closer, bending down until she is eye level with the man. "Coward," she seethes. "You think you're a real man? You think you can just come into someone's home and insult them? You think you're tough shit? You. Are. A. Coward."

He looks back to his friends and they share a smile. I pretty sure one of them even nods, urging Lumps on. When Lumps turns back around to face Quinn he smiles briefly, and before I, or anyone else, knows what's happening, hocks a lougie right in Q's face.

I know my face was _priceless_.

Gasps are heard around the room, followed by a loud SMACK.

Silence. Well minus Lumps, he's wailing like a baby. Not only did he get his ass kicked, no, he had to open his ugly mouth and is now sporting a lovely, red handprint across his left cheek.

Quinn stalks away across the room mumbling something inaudible with disgust written all over her features.

Rachel's crying, but she's been crying since the fight began apparently, ceasing only briefly apparently because the waterworks have yet to stop since the cops were called. I was worried about her at first, but apparently that's just how Rachel is. Emotional.

Santana's face is really cut up, and her eye is swollen. The blood that was falling freely has long since dried, but she still looks awful. Since no one is taking action, I stand up and cautiously make my way over to her. I scan the group, they are all silently telling me to leave her be, but I can't. Have I mentioned that I'm terrified? No? Well, I am. What if she lashes out and beats me up too?

"Um... Santana?" I ask nervously. Her head snaps up and I'm given a glare that sent a small chill up my spine. I swallow the lump in my throat and continue. "Um... don't take this the wrong way but... you look awful." She lets out a small laugh and smiles, and I breathe out in relief.

"If you think this is bad, you should see the other guy." With a giant smirk, she points over to the man in the corner. I'm trying my hardest not to laugh, but when she turns back around to face me I laugh out loud. Her mouth opens slightly, as if she's offended, and I squeak. Literally _squeak_. My eyebrows shoot upwards, my eyes go wide, and I cover my mouth quickly.

The man turns around and gives me finger.

"Watch it or we'll be going for round 2!" She growls. He turns around quickly and at that the rest of our group fall into laughter while Santana mumbles something or another under her breath.

"Let's um... Let's get you cleaned up?" I offer my hand, not sure if this is the right move to make. Luckily, I feel her warm hand slide into mine, and I help lift her off of the couch. We make our way to the bathroom, me walking and supporting Santana as she hobbles along (adorably, I must admit) beside me. It's completely understandable though; she put up a good fight.

X

Putting the toilet lid down, Santana takes a seat. I scan the room looking for paper towels, Band-Aids, or anything to help with her face.

"First-aid kit is on the kitchen counter. I think," She says, regarding me with an expression I can't really identify. Bemused, perhaps?

I return moments later, kit in hand, and find Santana examining her face in the mirror with distaste. "You said I looked awful. You failed to mention the part in which I look like complete shit." She says through a chuckle, sighing wearily and plopping resignedly back down onto the toilet seat.

I smile. She's just been through a fight, with a man might I add, and she's laughing. Is there anything she won't surprise me with next? "For someone who's just gotten into a fight, you seem really giddy", I quip.

"Hell yeah, because I won. You've seen the guy. I feel kinda bad though... He can't help his great misfortune of being born himself."

"Aw, don't beat yourself up about it", I quip, looking at her slyly. After a moment, she gets it, and with a wide eyed gasp she slaps my arm playfully.

"You are so bad!" she says, but she's laughing, and I guess that's as good a sign as any.

"I'm sorry, but I had to", I inform her with a chuckle, then motion towards the first aid kit. " Now let me fix you up."

"Oh, you really don't have to-", she begins, moving to grab the kit out of my hand but I pull it back. "Don't worry. I'll do it." I say with a broad smile. "Just relax."

"No. No, I can't let you do that, She says, and her hands are reaching for the kit again as she continues, rambling on nervously. "There's blood everywhere. And you don't really know me and stuff... It's weird. Like, what if I have AIDS, or-"

"Let me help you Santana." I say, cutting her off gently.

She looks into my eyes, and I give her a small reassuring nod, smiling. Finally, she relents, placing her hands back into her lap with an awkward but grateful smile, and I get the impression she isn't used to being taken care of. I crouch down in front of her, removing the alcohol pad from its packet. As I inch the pad toward her face I can see the worry in her eyes.

I pause, eyeing her cautiously. "I'm not gonna lie, this is going to hurt. A lot."

She smirks and nods her assent, but when the pad touches her skin, she let's out a small squeak and I feel her jump. I clean the cut above her eye thoroughly, feeling bad as she wriggles in pain. Silence surrounds us as I work, but it's a comfortable silence. Oddly enough, it's not weird at _all_. Here I am, in my friends' bathroom with _their_ roommate, who I don't know, cleaning the blood off of her face, and it's not weird.

Santana begins to laugh, breaking the silence.

"What?" I ask, joining in.

"You're too trusting. Here we are, in my bathroom, after I almost, almost being the operative word, got my ass kicked by the 40 year-old virgin."

"Yeah, so?"

"It's weird, but it's not. I can't explain it."

"I know..." I say, suddenly feeing self conscious for absolutely no reason. I look down at the ground shyly, trying furiously to think of something to say to fix this silence, which _is_ awkward now, when Hanna suddenly bursts through the door. She almost flattens me, crouched in front of the previously closed door as I was, but reels backward, fighting against her forward momentum. Regaining her balance with an awkward smile, she straightens her shirt and looks at both of us expectantly.

"Yes?" I say, feeling a bit of irrational resentment, as though she were intruding.

_What the hell is wrong with you Aria?_ I scold myself silently. _Get yourself straight._

Hanna interrupts my mental chiding with a scoff. "Defensive, much?" she says sarcastically. Turning to Santana, she continues. "The cops are here Maria. They want to speak to you?"

Santana just smiles and nods, suppressing a laugh. Hanna gives her a thumbs up and turns on her heel and leaves, not bothering to shut the door behind her.

Santana looks at me ironically and mouths _"Maria?"_

"Oh, you have no idea," I say with a laugh. "Welp, Looks like we're all done here." I say with a smile, clapping my hands together on my thighs emphatically. I close the kit and stand, my knees aching as I help her off of the seat.

Peering into the mirror, she turns around with a grateful, satisfied smile. "Thank you so much. 200% better." She raises her hand in the air, not knowing what to do next, and looks at me awkwardly. "So, do we like high five, fist pump, or what?"

"Um..." I'm so lost in my poor muddled mind I cant even think of a reply that would come out in any type of English.

"Well, I think a hug would suffice." She says finally, saving me. I'm relieved until I realize what she just said. _Oh God, she's going to hug me? Wait, why am I freaking out? Why do I care if she hugs me? Jesus Christ Aria! Chill!_

She continues on, oblivious to my internal war. "I mean we're kinda friends now, right? You cleaned my gross face, if that's not friendship then I don't know what is."

"A hug would be nice, I guess." I manage to reply, although it comes out a bit strangled.

She steps forward, and all I can think is _Oh God this is really happening_, and then she's engulfing me into a tight embrace, and I can feel myself trembling from my head to my toes. Her arms wrapped around me are surprisingly comfortable, and I relax into the hug with a sigh. I can feel her warm breath on my neck, and damn if she doesn't smell like vanilla. "Thank you," she says before slowly pulling away, and I don't know why, but I also linger, not wanting the contact to end. "Oh and if you tell anyone that Santana Lopez had to be patched up by a little Snow White look-alike, I will ends you." Santana Lopez was back, full effect, and I have to admit I was grateful. My face felt about ready to explode. I just nodded, feeling like some sort of stupid-inflicted bobble-head. No words would leave my mouth. She gave me a final smile, all business now, and exited the bathroom, leaving me in a cloud of vanilla trying desperately to calm my spazzing nerves and cool my flushed face.

X

I walk out into the living room and see a pair of cops, one holding Santana's arm firmly, the other doing the same with 'Lumps the clown'. Both look defeated and worn out, and I feel a sudden surge of anger towards the cop holding Santana. Everybody's crying by now, and Rachel has entirely collapsed. It seems like it's over before it even started because before I know it, handcuffs are being pulled out and cuffed on both of them.

Before any of the two can get another word in, grocery bags are hitting the floor. We all look up at a bewildered Kurt. "What the hell is going on," he asks. No one bothers to answer, and I feel something like a cold vise grip lock onto my heart as Santana looks up at me, her eyes begging me for reassurance, but there's none I can give her, and then she's out the door.

* * *

**A/N:**

Okay, Okay so it's been like a month, and for that I am sorry, but with school, work, and the social life that I don't have it makes it kind of hard to update regularly (Like seriously, I was up for 72 hours straight working on this school debate project. Never again. Haha). I promise you guys that I won't be one of those authors that update ever three months. I won't do that to you guys. Nope. Here's chapter 3, I hope you like it. Chapter 4 is already outlined, so expect that within the next week. Shout out to my unofficial beta, **kcuffykidd96**! Make sure you check out her story _**Whiplash**_ (It's a pll/ glee crossover too!). Remember to review, follow, and all that good stuff. Also, I'm kind of just writing this as I go. Nothing is set in stone. So, if you want to see something happen in the fic let me know and I'll see what I can do

ALSO! Did you guys see this weeks episode, Fued?! AMAZING! Loves me some Santana!

Xoxo,

Syn92


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **

**Hey Guys! I decided to put the author's note at the beginning of the chapter this time. First and for most, I want to thank everyone who has been reading this! I know it's a little rough around the edges but I promise you that things are about to get very interesting within the group. **

**Also, for anyone and everyone who've reviewed. Thank you! I really like reading your thoughts and suggestions. I try to incorporate all of the suggestions the best that I can. Like I've said, if you want to see anything happen in the fic let me know. I will try my best! **

**Third point, I apologize for my awful Spanish last chapter. Although I'm half Puerto Rican, I am embarrassed to say that I don't know a lick of Spanish (Thanks, Dad). So, admission time: I Google translated it and got screwed over. I should've known better. BUT I went back and fixed it (I think...?). AND I forgot translations at the end of the chapter. My bad. **

**There was a fourth point but... I can't remember. This A/N is going to end up being longer than the chapter. It's late I have to be up in a couple of hours so... I'm going to go now.**

**XOXO, **

**Syn92**

_**DISCLAIMER: Sadly, I don't own Glee or Pretty Little Liars (it would be awesome though). I don't own the characters BUT I do own the majority of this story line. **_

**Holla at yo' girl!**

* * *

_**Chapter Four**_

_**Santana POV**_

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand your rights as I have read them to you?"

These are the words that I keep repeating in my head and honestly, no: No I don't understand the rights as they have been read to me. I'm not quite sure how I got here, how I let myself get so worked up that I landed myself in jail. Especially since Lumps is the one who started the whole thing. He should be in this cell. Speaking of, where the hell is he?

"Hey," I stand, calling after one of the officers. "Don't I at least get a phone call or something?" She completely ignores me. "Oh. Okay, alright then, thanks Toots. Nice chat." I slam my hands on the bars with a sarcastic smile and turn my back to her, sinking to the ground with a defeated sigh.

I drop my head onto my knees, and just as I'm sinking into my elaborate internal suicide/homicide scheming, I hear a peculiar voice speak up beside me. "Aww, what's wrong, boo?"

I snap my head up, and see a woman slouched on one of the wooden benches in our little hell-cell, head cocked and smiling in amusement. Wait. Is it even a woman? Suddenly I'm not so sure. No, I was wrong, it's a man. I think. A woman? No, that's definitely a... man, dressed as a woman? Let's just say a Woah-man, because that's exactly what I thought when I first saw her? Him? Them.

Anyway, their wig is crooked. Bright pink lipstick is smeared to the right of her (his?) mouth, and mascara has ran down their face in dirty, smudged little streaks. Their (very female-ish) clothes are all dirty and torn, and I can tell immediately that I'm not the only one who's not having the best of nights. Looking rough is the understatement of the century. Their friend, sitting nearby with legs crossed and fuschia lips pursed like some broke-down Nicki Minaj, looks just as bad, if not worse. And someone's having trouble containing their lady-boner because I can totally see a bulge in that neon pink pencil skirt. Definitely a woah-man.

Snapping back from my observations, I realize she's (he's) still staring at me, and hello, mouth connect to brain Santana: In normal society, when one is spoken to, they reply. But by now I had entirely forgotten what she'd even said.

I just said "Who me?" (I know, great going smart one).

The woah-man chuckled, and looked over at her friend like _look at this idiot here_.

"Yes you, little girl blue." She said, turning back to me. "You be over there, all frowny and what not. Talk to Auntie Coco." Here she paused, and I swear she gave me a solid 20 seconds to reply, but my stuck-on-stupid organ I called a brain just stalled, failing to cooperate. She ("Aunties" are females, so I assume that's what she wanted to be called) cocked an eyebrow, apparently skeptical of my IQ, but mercifully specified "Whatcha in here fo'?"

Finally, there was one I could answer. "I um... well..." I smirked, realizing finally exactly what it was I had done. "I kinda beat down this guy..."

Gasps echo off of the cell bars. I mean I'm not proud of myself but like what was I supposed to do. He came into my home, insulted my friend, and then had the nerve to hit me back. He was totally asking for it!

"Oh my gurdness gur! Why?!" I look over to the corner of the cell in the direction of the question. Yet another wide-eyed woah-man waits for my response, and I'm beginning to wonder if these guys don't travel in packs.

"Well, he got up in my grill." I say, clearing my throat and beginning to relax. These girls are pretty cool. "That's not how we do it in Lima Heights." I continue, giving them a smug nod, but shifting uncomfortably when my eyes meet a big, white, butch woman, leaning against the barred window with her arms crossed, who gives me The Nod, licking her lips "seductively".

"Lima Heights Adjacent?" Auntie Coco asks, completely ignoring Call of The Wild at the window.

"Yeah. So?" I eye her warily, getting ready to go on the defensive, but she just shrugs off my attitude like one of Berry's old pea coats.

"Calm yo tits, hun. I was just asking."

A bit put out, I purse my lips and look at the floor. "I'm sorry, it's been a long night." I say finally with an indifferent shrug. "I just want to go home and lay my ass down." The others nod in agreement, and Wild Thing says something under her breath with a suggestive look in my direction. Auntie Coco save me.

"Um... so what are you guys in here for?" I ask, desperate to change _that_ subject.

"Hey gurl" Insert pause and lip smack here. "My name be Champagne honey. It's spelled like C-H-A-M-P-A-G-N-E, but pronounced 'Sham-pag-in,' not to be confused with the drank, y'know?" Baby Nicki clears her throat. " Coco and I be in here because of prostate-institution, and I ain't ashamed of what I do."

"Prostitution, Champagne. Learn to say it girl." Coco corrects.

"Whateva. I'm good at it. I gets my bills paid. If it wasn't for that damn undercova cop."

"Yeah, he was a freak though." Coco says, smiling at the thought. "Ooh! There he go right there!" She points to the man passing our cell. "How you doin', Officer Freaky?!"

He ducks his head in embarrassment and we all begin to laugh, me included. Who am I to knock her hustle?

"You do you, boo boo," I say, and she shoots me a wink, which I return sassily.

"Ooh, you bad gurl!" Coco shouts with a loud laugh, earning us a reprimanding _Shhh _from Mrs. Tight Lips security bitch outside of our cell. That just makes us laugh harder, all of us cracking up until my ribs are literally hurting.

Catching my breath, I sit back up and try to regain my composure before continuing the conversation. Finally, somehow, I manage.

"What about you?" I ask a mousey, wide-eyed woman I hadn't noticed before standing against the far wall. I have no idea how I had not seen her before. Her hair was in a wild, tangled arc above her head, and I really just wanted to introduce her to a brush.

She looks up, surprised, and begins fidgeting awkwardly. "I- I'm Claire." Claire Hair glances around with her shifty eyes and a uneasy chill washes over me. She probably killed her boyfriend, or like, buried her mom in the backyard or something. Hell, she probably did both, and only after putting her dog in the microwave.

"I assaulted an officer after getting pulled over." She said, barely above a whisper.

"Idiot." The Raging Wild Butch scoffs.

"Excuse me?" Claire questions.

"You heard me poppin."

"Oh, that's grand." Claire says sarcastically, surprising me. "Especially since it's coming from someone who robbed a _sex toy_ warehouse." Hair looks down at her shoelaces with a smirk, and we all look back and forth between the two. I'm trying my hardest to keep a straight face, but my goofy grin breaks through.

Butch meanwhile has turned a very unflattering shade of red. "I told you that in confidence!" She screams.

We all, once more, burst into laughter, and even Security Bitch joins in this time.

"Horny much?" I choke out through my laughter, holding my stomach against the silent, gulping laughs that are now wracking my body.

"Hey! Don't judge." She laughs, only to turn serious a second later. "And if any of you have anything to say: step to me, don't play no games with Miss Sara. Any of you would've done the same thing in my situation." Ahh, so that's her name. She doesn't look like a Sara. She looks like her name should be Icebox, or Tank. I mean girlie is tall, wide, and "toned" is putting it lightly.

"HOLD UP! Hold up. Hold up. Hold up." Champagne shakes her head with her hands in the air. "Girl." I realize she's talking to me, and I look up with watery eyes as she points at me accusingly. "You neva told us your what yo name be. I mean unless it's Lima Heights Adjacent?" She raises and eyebrow disbelievingly and I shake my head, still giggling like a retard.

"Santana. The name's Santana." I hold up a warning finger. "And if any of you search me on Google Maps and show up on my doorstep with a box of Bar-B-Q wings, I promise I'll call the police."

More laughter ensues, and I can't help smile. 3 woah-mans (Auntie, Sham-pag-in, and Corner Hugger), a raging hormonal butch (AKA Sara), Casey Anthony Jr., and one Santana Lopez, all jammed together into one rough, cold, stone jail cell, and I'm actually having fun. Who'da thunk it? The time passes and we all continue talking. We talk about a lot of things and before I know it Sara has her head on my shoulder and an arm around my waist. _**What the fuck?! **_It's like I'm cuddled up to a cinderblock.

Just as Woah-Man 3(whose name turned out to be McSmexy) is regaling us with his tale of being hunted out of a crack house shower stall by police dogs, a policeman unlocks the cell.

"Lopez, Santana?" He calls out. I try to stand but Sara's grip on me tightens. I pry her off of me, much to her protest, and go to stand.

"That's me. Do I finally get my damn phone call? I've been in here since last night." It comes out a lot bitchier than I meant it too, but I'm annoyed. I'm beaten up, cold, sweaty, gross, and hungry. He quirks an eyebrow at me, and I have no time for his doughy white-man politicking. I just want to get out of here. If I have to play nice then to do so, then so be it. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm just ready to go home."

"You've made bail. You can pick up your things and get the hell out of here." He says monotonously, and I don't like the way his creepy sad little Pedo-Bear eyes are travelling up and down my body like that. It makes me want to shove a flaming gay unicorn down his throat.

I look at the 'girls' behind me and give them all a sad smile. Who says you can't make friends in jail? Granted, they are all a little weird, but they treated me well. I mean I guess. Sara scared the hell out of me, but she was still pretty nice for a brick.

"Well guys, guess I'll see you when I see you." The all sadly nod. Auntie Coco makes her way across the cell towards me and wraps me into a hug. I tense instantly, still feeling a little sore from the night before.

"Ooh! Girl, I'm sorry." She backs up immediately; looking me over like she was afraid she had snapped me like a twig.

I laugh at her concern good-naturedly. "It's okay."

Champagne, Sara, and Claire follow Auntie's lead. Sara holds on a little longer than necessary, hands inching just that little creepy bit too close to my ass, and nope, that does it, the woman's smelling my hair.

"Okay, okay, OKAY!" I cry. Once again, I pry her off, keeping her at arms reach. She gives me a sheepish smile. I turn and look at the group of girls on last time before I gather up my jacket and follow officer Friendly towards the front of the jailhouse.

X

Walking out into the bright light of the new day, I pull the sunglasses from my collar, putting them on before running a hand through my hair. L.A. is a lot sunnier than I'd imagined. Stepping out onto the public sidewalk (FREEDOM!) and pulling out my phone, I scroll through my contacts. Hopefully, Quinn or someone can come pick me up, because I have absolutely no clue where I am. After some consideration, I decide to call my bestest bestest bestest friend: I dial Quinn.

"Hi, You've reached Quinn. I can't come to the phone right now so-." _**BEEP.**_

Okay then... Maybe I'll try Kurt. After a couple rings, he finally picks up. "Hey! What's up?" I flinch at the sound of he voice: it's so drawn out and high pitched. Also, the fact that he is practically screaming into the phone isn't helping. Regardless, I knew he'd be the one I could count on.

"Oh my God! Kurt, you'll never beli-."

"Just Kidding! You've got my voicemail! You know what to do." _**BEEP.**_

Or not.

I try several numbers. Brittany, Mercedes, even Rachel. All I get is voicemail. This is just great. We fly to the other side of the country, I get my ass beat, arrested, and then when I need someone to come and pick me up, everyone goes ghost. Oh, the power of friendship. It's cool though. I'm not gonna cry over this. I'll figure it out. I always figure something out.

I pull up my phones GPS and type in my apartment's address. Two hours?! It's a 2 hour walk from here to there?! Well, no use in complaining. I mean I could call a cab... but maybe the walk will help me clear my head? Do I really want to walk? Who knows what kind of creepers live in L.A.?

As I continue my internal argument, I don't even realize that someone is standing awkwardly close to me until I feel a tap on my shoulder, which pulls me out of my reverie. I turn around, and a relived sigh escapes my lips as I'm met with a familiar face.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Aria asks with a warm smile.

"Ar- Aria, what are you doing here!?" I can't believe this. What is she doing here? How the hell did she know that I've been let out? Should I be afraid?

Our eyes meet and I get stuck on stupid.

"Wha-. Why? How? Huh?" She laughs. She's always laughing. I'm not that funny. I mean, I don't think I am, but whatever. I close my eyes, trying to gather my thoughts before I make a gigantic fool outside of myself, as seems to be per usual with me these days.

"How did you know I was here?" I ask, finally gathering my thoughts enough to attempt coherency.

"I bailed you out. Well, I mean we all kind of pulled some money together in order for you to get out, but-."

"You all pulled money together? Where is everyone else?" As soon as the words left my mouth, I already regretted them. She looks like a kicked puppy. "I mean, not that I'm not happy to see you. I mean I'm really glad you're here. I just, ya know, I-." She puts her hands up and stops my ramble.

"Chill out. I was only kidding." She winks and gives me a playful push before turning on her heels, heading in the opposite direction. "Cars this way," She calls back to me. I feel a dopey smile light my face, and I follow after the bouncy brunette in the pink summer dress more then willingly. I don't know what it is, but something's telling me that this Aria and I are going to end up being good friends. Maybe.

"I ain't yo slave!" I say with a smile as I catch up with her fast paced strides and push her back. Her eyes go wide, and she reaches up to stop her bright yellow sunglasses from falling from their perch atop her head with a disbelieving laugh.

"Whoa, I'm not the moving guy! Lighten up, heavy hands!"

Now it's my turn to stare at her with wide, disbelieving eyes as she steps down from the side walk to her car's driver side door. She would be the one to drive a 1963 Black Mercury Comet. Red interior, blue flamingo dangling from the rearview... Seems like the type.

"Nice ride." I comment, giving the Comet an approving once over through squinted eyes as the light glares off of it harshly. Aria shoots me a 'damn right' smirk and nods, before I continue. "But uh... One Tree Hill called. Peyton wants her car back."

I look up and she's just shaking her head. I study her face for a second and find a smile, relieving my initial worry that I might have offended her. Thank goodness. Normally, I wouldn't care. I keep it real and I'm hilarious, but for some reason something's stopping me from being mean to this girl. It's like, could it be: a _filter_? Oh Jesus.

"Hardy Har Har," she says dryly. "I'm surprised you even know what One Tree Hill is. Nerd."

"Yeah, but I'm not the one rocking an exact replica of a character's car. Think about it, take a second, ding. Speaking of which, where the hell and when the hell did you get a car? We've only been in Cali for two days. You didn't steal it did you?" Yeah, I'm all for being a badass but stealing is something I can't get with. Nope. Uh-uh. I was raised that hard work is what gets you things. I plan to follow that. Unless of course Beyonce is in town, in which case I will definitely be copping a pair of her under-, uh, never mind.

"What? No!" Aria pauses in opening her door and releases a deep, exasperated breath and looks across the roof of the car at me in amusement. "Craigslist, Santana. I got it the same day we contacted you guys about the apartments. The guy selling it lived here and I figured it'd be perfect for Cali."

"Yeah, until the transmission falls out on the 405." I say under my breath.

"What was that?"

Clearing my throat, I open the passenger door and get inside. "I said if um... the car needs anything done to it, I can do it. It's kind of my thing."

"Sweet, free mechanic." She says as she plops down into the drivers seat, putting the key in the ignition and turning it on. Well, trying to. After a couple of tries, the thing finally starts with a tired sounding grumble and cough. It definitely needs work. It sounds like ass. Dirty ass.

"Your car sounds like ass." I say, and we bust into laughter as she puts the car in reverse and we're on our way.

X

We pull up to our apartment building and suddenly I really don't want to face my 'friends.' I needed them and they weren't there. I'll admit that deep inside; even _my _rotten black peach of a heart is hurt. Aria places both of her hands on mine, "Hey, it's gonna to be okay."

I shake my head, "No. No it's not." Anger flares up inside of me, and I shake out of her light grasp, taking a second to breathe, trying to calm myself and fight back the urge to hit something. With Aria in the car, I definitely don't want that to happen. She saw enough of that the other night. I realize my fists are clenched in front of me, and I drop one to my lap, using the other to brace myself against the dashboard.

"They're just scared, San." Aria says, using my nickname comfortingly as she rubs my shoulder. "The other night you were an animal. I'm not gonna lie, it was scary."

"What, so they all opted out, drew straws, did a 'nose goes' type thing, and you picked me up by default, right?" I bite, and my closed fist begins trembling on the dashboard. Aria eyes me warily before scooting back in her seat just the slightest bit.

"No." She begins evenly, trying to appear unfazed by my bipolar ass. I don't blame her. "I volunteered. I was actually the first to volunteer." Her voice is pleading with me to believe her, but I turn away. I can't even look her in the eye.

I'm pissed, there's no other way to describe it. I don't want her sympathy. Suddenly Aria begins to stroke my not trembling hand with her thumb, and I fight my urge to shake it away. A few seconds of this, and oddly enough I find myself beginning to calm down. _What the hell is wrong with you? Are you about to get your period or something? Snap out of that shit Santana! Your emotions are all over the place, and it's scaring Aria._

"Come on. Let's get inside. I bet they are all there waiting for you." Aria says finally, offering me a weak smile, which I return, mine's equally weak.

Shutting off the car, Aria gets out and walks around to my side, opening the door. As soon as I step out, she grabs my hand, her small soft palm fitting perfectly against mine. I try not to over think that small detail, and focus instead on the task at hand. I can feel my nerves coiling at the base of my wrists like sprung piano strings. Aria is patient, looking at me expectantly for the go-ahead.

With a large, shuddering sigh, I force a smile, stronger this time, and give my little companion a small nod.

Her hand tightens on mine, and then we're walking towards the large brick building, Aria taking the lead. It's time to face the music.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Stick with me here guys; shit is about to get real! I have a ton of ideas. I'll post chapter 5 tomorrow hopefully (Hell, I might post that one tonight too). The more reviews I get, the faster I'll post. Boo yah! Review and follow! I'll love you forever.**

**ALSO! Check out my little sister/unofficial beta's (_kcuffykidd96_) story, _Whiplash_. Her latest chapter is hilarious. If you're liking this fic, then you'll totally like that one too. **

**-Syn**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey Guys! As promised here is chapter 5! **

_**DISCLAIMER: Sadly, I don't own Glee or Pretty Little Liars (it would be awesome though). I don't own the characters but I DO own the majority of this story line. **_

_**SHOUTOUT to all of the people who've read, reviewed, and followed! You guys are the best. Especially, the people who have reviewed, I honestly didn't think this story would get much response. Thank you so much! You guys are the best! #SANTARIA**_

_**MAJOR SHOUTOUT TO MY LITTLE SIS! THANKS, KCUFFYKIDD96! YOU ARE ONE HELL OF A BETA! LOVE YA CHICA!**_

* * *

_**Chapter Five**_

_**Aria POV **_

I hold Santana's hand the whole elevator ride. She's been quiet the whole ride and I feel so bad for the girl. The Elevator chimes and Santana's grip on my hand tightens. The doors slide open, and I go to step out but she doesn't budge. I look back and she's staring at me, brown eyes pleading with me, and so I step back into the elevator. Rushing her is the last thing that I want to do. I mean I can only imagine what's going on in her head right now.

"Santana, are you alright?" I reach out for her shoulder, but she's so lost in her inner turmoil that she doesn't even seem to hear me. The elevator door closes and begins its journey downward. I look at the floor silently, scuffing my sneaker around awkwardly in the dirt that's collected there, and then we're back in the building lobby.

As we step out, a few people shuffle in, and by a few I mean a lot. I decide that pushing into this crowded elevator is beyond not worth it, seeing as how Santana's basically semi-conscious anyhow, so I pull her away and lead her to a bench to sit her down. As I'm arranging myself on the seat beside her (deciding I might as well get comfortable because I've resigned myself to sitting here for an hour in the least) my phone buzzes. I struggle taking the phone out of my pocket, wiggling furiously and bumping Santana in the process. Damn these skinny jeans.

**Incoming: Spencer (2:23 pm)**

**Hey, there's a key for Santana under the welcome mat. We wanted to give her some space when she arrived. Quinn figured she'd need time to cool off. Is she still upset?**

**To: Spencer (2:25 pm)**

**No... she's fine. Just Peachy. **

**Incoming: Spencer (2:26 pm)**

**Really?**

**To: Spencer (2:26 pm)**

**No Spence! She spent the night in jail! She's a fucking mess! And what do you mean space? You guys aren't there?**

**Incoming: Spencer (2:27 pm)**

**No... We're upstairs in your apartment, Aria. All of us. Why? What's your problem?**

**To: Spencer (2:28 pm)**

**My problem is that she needs us! All of us, and you guys aren't here! Put yourself in her shoes. **

**Incoming: Spencer (2:31 pm)**

**Look, I understand what you're saying, but yesterday she completely flipped. Sorry if I'm a little scared! You weren't there for the whole thing. You didn't see the look in her eyes. **

Suddenly Santana rises, taking a deep breath, and grabs my hand. She all but hauls me to the elevator, and I can do is marvel in her sudden change of attitude. We step inside and the door closes, and now her energy is different. It's like a soldier going to war: resigned and ready. I can't even imagine.

When the door opens this time, there's no hesitation. She strides quickly out into the corridor, releasing my hand as she goes, and I can't help but think of a baby bird leaving it's nest for the first time. _My_ baby bird.

Before I can protest, she's off walking down the hallway purposefully and calling over her shoulder "I'm going to jump into the shower and then I'll probably crash. Thank you. Y'know, for everything."

I can hear the fear she's hiding behind her strong front, and what am I supposed to do? I can't just let this little bird walk into that emotional coyote den all alone. God, all these creepy analogies. I'll stop.

"San wait!" I call down the hall. She turns back to look at me. I clasped my hands awkwardly in front of me, realizing I had absolutely no clue what I was going to say. Santana looked at me expectantly, a bit confused at my silence.

"I um... I made your bed and stuff." I blurted out for lack of anything better to say. "I tend to worry. A lot. So, I went into your room and I never meant to stay but then I saw your comforter set sitting out and I thought you might like your bed better made because who can sleep in an unmade bed and so I fixed up your bed and I know I went in your room without your permission and I'm sorry but I-." Santana puts up her hands, stopping me mid ramble.

"Slow down. It's okay," she says with a shrug. "Less for me to do. Thanks"

She's walking away again. That can't happen. "Can I-?" I stop, unsure of how to continue. Luckily she understands.

"My place is your place." She says. "I'll be there in a moment. I forgot to grab my mail." Santana reaches under the mat and hands me her apartment key before she walks away toward the elevators, shoulders held high and hair thrown back like she didn't have a care in the world.

I just watched her go.

X

I drift into Santana's room in a daze, feeling exhausted and unsure of what to do with myself, and sure enough: it's empty. I don't even know what I'm so worked up about. Santana is a big girl. She can handle herself just fine, as I've already witnessed. Deciding a warm drink might calm my nerves, I pull out one of the mugs in the kitchen, and fill it up with milk before popping it into the microwave. As I wait for my milk to heat up, I pull out my phone (which seems a lot easier now that I'm standing up) and shoot a quick text to Spencer.

**To: Spencer (2:38pm)**

**You didn't see her when I picked her up at the station, Spencer. Look I gotta go. It's been a long day. Talk to you... whenever. **

With that done, I throw my body on the couch face first and sigh into the material, finally being able to relax. I was asleep within seconds, and I never even heard the little "_ding!"_ when the microwave stopped.

X

My eyes shoot open. I smell food, and I know it's not Quinn or Brittany because it smells amazing. I take in my surroundings, and check my phone. **7:06 pm. **Shit. I fell asleep. I arch my back and twist across the couch, stretching my tired limbs. Glancing in the kitchen, I see Santana at the stove dancing. This girl, I tell ya. I don't get her. She get's into a fight and once it's over she laughs it off like it's nothing. She gets released from jail and laughs her ass off because of the car a drive, only to do a complete 180 when we pull outside of our building. Now she's in the kitchen cooking heaven on a griddle. I don't understand.

Standing with a groan, I shuffle cavewoman style towards the kitchen. My limbs feel as though they've been filled with lead. "Santana," I call out. No answer. "Santana." I try again. Still nothing. I tap her shoulder and she almost jumps out of her skin. She pulls out her earphones and quickly greets me with a smile before turning back to the stove to flip the pancakes lined along the griddle.

"Those smell amazing." I practically moan.

She lets out a little laugh. "Let's hope they taste as amazing as they smell. I found a box of Rachel's vegan mix. If it's anything like the vegan bread she used to force upon us in high school then it's gonna taste like straight up elephant ass."

I'm confused. "So, you've eaten elephant's ass. Interesting. How is it?"

"Tastes like chicken." She winks. "Hey can you grab two plates? Please?" I begin to search the cupboards for plates. I pull out two and set them on the counter.

"Why didn't you wake me?" She shrugs and continues with whatever it is she's doing. Soon enough, our plates are full. Vegan pancakes, hash browns, and a small bowl of fruit. I'm starving.

"Um... I think I saw a gallon of Kurt's orange juice in there. Rachel has some kind of weird milk, probably from a hamster. Um... Gatorade, cola, H2O, whatever."

"A glass of water would be awesome." I say, and I remember that glass of milk I had forgotten earlier. If it really was _hamster milk_, as Santana had so elaborately put it, then I'm glad I didn't drink it. As she sets the glass down in front of me, I eye her curiously. "Nothing for you to drink?" I ask.

"Nope, I'm not that thirsty. I found a glass of milk in the microwave." At my incredulous look, she adds "Sorry if it was yours. I Just figured, ya know, with you being asleep and all..."

I shake my head in confusion. "Santana that milk was like 3 hours old."

She raises an eyebrow at me sarcastically. "And? I grew up in hell's dungeon. My brother made me eat a grasshopper once, and you don't even want to know what goes on in the back alleys of Lima Heights Adjacent. A little old milk never hurt anyone."

I just stare at her. She drank my milk. My old, _preheated_ milk, to be exact. If that's not love, I don't know what love is.

"So?" She says, pulling me back to the real world and the table set before us. "Are you just going to sit there and stare at all this food, or are we actually going to enjoy it, and make slaving in front of that hot, greasy little stove worth it?

That was all I needed to hear.

X

'Brinner,' as Santana referred to it, was amazing. The pancakes were amazing. Santana complained the whole time she was eating them. Confirming that they too tasted like 'elephant ass,' but I enjoyed them. Granted I had to use almost an entire bottle of maple syrup and half a stick of butter, but I enjoyed them.

Half way through our meal we decided on relaxing and making it a movie night. I couldn't bring myself to leave her alone. I mean, come on, all of her other friends went ghost on her. Like some bad Scary Movie 3 type ghost. I don't want to do the same.

San's movie collection is enormous. I found that out the hard way when we began digging through five large boxes full of stacked DVD cases. Twenty minutes ago. When I accidently stumbled upon a small box of adult films I quickly and awkwardly pushed the boxed to the side. I asked no questions, she told no lies.

We ended up deciding on an 80's movie night, bringing out the classics. _**Ferris Bueller's Day Off, The Breakfast Club, Weird Science, Pretty in Pink, **_and_** Back to the Future, I **_and_** II.**_

I slid _**Heartbreak Ridge**_ under the couch when Santana's back was turned. Nobody wants to watch that more than once.

"Hey, I'll be right back." I say suddenly. I look up and she's looking at me like I have five heads. I realize I'm clutching Ferris Bueller to my chest, and place it on the pile reluctantly. What can I say? That movie's the shit. "I'm going to head upstairs to my apartment for some comfortable clothes... and maybe a shower. The stench of this long day is like, sticking to me." I peel my shirt from where its plastered to my skin and sniff it, recoiling at the smell of my sweat.

"If your reaction to you smelling yourself is any indication, yes, please go wash yo' ass." I look her in the eyes. She looks dead serious. Just as I'm about to mentally scold myself for my actions, a half smile pulls on the corners of her mouth. "Totally kidding." She gestures to the DVD case. "It'll still be here when you get back. Go. The door will be open. Just knock like three times or something. I don't want to welcome in a hobo again"

"Again?" I ask.

"I have a very colorful past, Montgomery." She looks away from the DVD case she's reading and meets my eyes seriously.

All I can do is nod.

X

I walk through the front door of my apartment and everyone is huddled around the TV. I walk past them without saying a word. I'm too upset with them right now to even... I just can't. I can feel their eyes on me but no one says a word. They know that what they're doing is wrong, so why point out the obvious?

I grab some of my things and head to the bathroom. Setting my things on the cool, marble counter, I turn on the radio and connect my phone to it. I scroll through apps until I find what I'm looking for. Every girl's true best friend: Pandora. **Sweet Nothing **by Florence Welchimmediatelyblasts through the speakers, and I smile for the first time since I left San's. This is totally my lady jam.

I go to the shower, but just stand there, staring like an idiot: There are so many knobs! I try a small, rectangular cut one at the bottom right, and get blasted in the back of my head with an icy cold bust of water.

"Shit!" I yell, as the water comes around and begins drowning me. I duck, sputtering through the water and begin fumbling with the knobs furiously until finally I find the right one and the spray stops. I crouch there, soaked and gasping for air as I wonder miserably what ever happened to showers with a single showerhead? This thing has like 15. There are two at each end of the shower, two hanging from the ceiling, individual jets lining the wall opposite the glass door. It's crazy.

I stand shakily and examine the knobs, more carefully this time, and notice little labels inscribed into the glass, presumably instructions. Finally figuring out how to turn on the showerhead I want, I twist a large oval knob near the top of the row, and slide a metal bar sticking out of the tiled until the water is warm enough. Testing it with my hand first, I decide the temperature perfect and step under the spray.

As I wash away the thin coat of sweat and grime coating my skin, I begin to sing along to the music my Pandora is pumping out. Kelly Clarkson, yes!

**Ohhh  
There's a place,  
That I know...  
It's not pretty there and few have ever gone.  
If I show it to you now,  
Will it make you run away?  
Or will you stay...**

**even if it hurts?  
Even if I try to push you out, will you return?  
And remind me who I really am...  
Please remind me who I really am!**

I hold up my back scrubber to my mouth as I belt out the chorus.

**Everybody's got a dark side!**

**Do you love me?**

**Can you love mine?**

**Nobody's a picture perfect,**

**But we're worth it, you know that we're worth it!**

**Can you love me... even with my dark side?**

I begin to rinse away the soap as I catch my breath, and I can feel tears welling up behind my eyes. I don't know why, but the song is making me really emotional. I decide to just chalk it up to a long day. After all, it's not like it's anything personal. _I_ don't have a dark side.

_Or do you?_ A voice in the back of my mind whispers.

I stop mid-rinse and my eyes widen in surprise.

_Did my subconscious really just _speak_ to me? No, no way in hell._ I think, and I force out a laugh, hoping it will ease the cold fear I can feel creeping up in my stomach. My laugh, however, just sounds nervous and crazed, like a serial killer or something as it bounces around the walls of the shower. That's even scarier, and so I just shut up and decide to forego any more singing tonight.

By the time Kelly Clarkson is done singing about her dark side, I have all but forgotten the incident (if you could even call it that), and I'm about as clean as I'm going to get. Still, I linger, not quite willing to leave the shower just yet. I step back under the spray and just relax there, no frenzied scrubbing or lathering, just breathing, hoping for some inner peace. Miraculously, it works.

A sigh of relief escapes my lips as the hot water pours over me, easing my tense muscles and cleaning away the day's stresses. I lay my hands on the wall and brace myself against it, taking a moment to just stand there, inhaling the steam and letting the water pour over my back. It's comforting, you know, the sound of water running. I stand there and soak it all in, letting the heat and peace surround me. I decide that it has to be one of the most relaxing things in the world.

Voices outside the door bitch slap me out of my Zen moment, and I shut off the water as a voice calls tentatively from outside "Hey, you okay in there Ar?"

"Yes" I bite, feeling my anger returning. "Why?"

"Oh, we were just checking up on you. We thought you might've fallen and hit your head or something." Spencer says.

"Oh, so now you care about your friends?" I ask sarcastically.

No one replies, but I hear a small click, as if the door had been shut. I decide that I'm going to the drug store first thing tomorrow for some pills. I'm going crazy.

I slide open the glass door and step out, closing my eyes and letting the cool air settle on my face. I reach up; eyes still closed, and grope above me until my hand finds my towel hanging from the railing above my head. My fingers close on the soft, fluffy fabric and I pull it down, wrapping it around me securely.

"Y'know, a bikini wax or two wouldn't hurt." I jump with a shriek, almost pissing myself, and my eyes fly open. My heart is pounding as I stare at the girl perched on the sink in a bathrobe and heels. How the hell did she get in here?

"Hanna." I deadpan, trying not to let my emotions penetrate my voice. Technically we're still on a no speaking basis, but I think the current situation clearly allows for an exception.

"Seriously, when's the last time you," She motions to my um... situation (which is now covered), "you know, trimmed that? Christmas isn't until December Ar."

"Hanna!"

"Well I'm just saying. It's way too early to start cultivating a Christmas tree."

I shoot her a glare and open the door; nodding my head it's direction hoping she gets the hint.

"Fine. Just... is she okay? Spencer told us about earlier."

"Oh, so now you _care_?" Hanna just looks at me, and I swear the girl's part brick. "Her ego is a bit bruised, so is her face, but other than that she's okay." I say, turning towards the mirror with a sigh, but then I feel the anger returning and I spin back around. "And where were you guys earlier? We came back, and her apartment was empty! She acted like it didn't matter but I mean come on: it clearly did. And don't even say she acted like she was okay, because when has Santana Lopez ever shown anybody weakness? She fought a freaking _man, _Hanna. And that dude wasn't little."

"I'm... I... I don't know what to say." She gets up awkwardly and steps towards the door, resting a hand on the doorknob. She looks back at me, looking a bit put out, and said "I can't change the past Aria. You of all people should know that."

I look at her. I don't have the slightest clue what the hell she is talking about.

She nods, as though that was what she was expecting, and opens the door. "Hanna," I call her before she leaves, and she looks back at me. "Sorry' is a good start."

She nods, smiling before she steps out and closes the door behind her.

Just as I'm about to unwrap my towel and put on my clothes, the door suddenly swings back open, and I clutch the towel to my body furiously.

"Oh, and Ar?" Hanna asks with a smirk.

"Yes?" I ask pointedly, making my discomfort obvious as I hold my towel around me tightly.

"Seriously, shave." She points to my crotch and with a small chuckle, she is out of the door.

"Douche." I mutter to myself. But I smile as I say it, and I think that at least one of my asshole friends is back on my good side.

X

I knock on Santana's door and step inside. "San!"

"Kitchen!" she yells back.

She's standing in front of the microwave completely engrossed in her phone. She looks up with a big goofy, slightly mischievous grin.

"What?" I ask grinning just as big but feeling really self-conscious all of the sudden.

"Nothing," she laughs. Turning her attention back to her phone. " I just found you on Facebook, I sent you friend request. You should really change your privacy settings. Your timeline pictures are completely free for the world to see."

I rush over to where she's standing and look over her shoulder. "Creeper." I laugh and give her a little nudge. She just smirks and continues to scroll through my album. "Oh my God..." I groan in embarrassment. Those pictures are so embarrassing!"

"No, no. They're cute. Hobbity, but in a cute little elf hobbit type of way." I have no idea what she's talking about, so I just nod. "The dark hair, pink stripe thing you had going on was pretty hot. Just sayin'." She shrugs. "Do you mind if I ask you a question though? It's totally cool if you don't want to... I mean, um... We don't really know each other but I would really like to get to know you more. Wow that sounded creepy..." She's rambling so much right now. I can tell she's getting flustered, but I can't help the giggles that are escaping me. She's being really cute right now.

"Talking to yourself, ey? That's not good." I smile and she pushes me away with a roll of her eyes.

"What I'm trying to say is... I consider us friends. It's been like two days, we've only said about fifty words towards each other but you saved me. You were the only one who gave a rat's ass about me when I needed support the most. I just want to know more about you." She looks to the ground.

Why's she being so shy? From what I've gathered from our few shared moments and the stories of her old comrades, she's badass. This side of her, the side that no one ever sees, is special. That much is clear. I just don't get why she's showing it to me. "But I mean if you're not up for that, cool. It's whatever." There go those walls.

"Well... what do you want to ask me? I'll try my best to give you answers." I'm trying to give her room to maneuver here, and get her mind straight. Apparently, it works.

"Okay, who's that hot, nerdy guy in all of your pictures?" She blurts. Well, I wasn't expecting that. I guess she can read my face because she quickly tries to take back what she's asked. "Okay, I totally crossed the line. Sorry."

"Hot, Nerdy guy? Wait, Aren't you gay?" Just as I'm finishing my question the microwave beeps. She pulls out the bag of popcorn and begins rifling through cabinets and drawers for a bowl I assume.

"I never said that." Her back is turned towards me so I can't see her expression. "Do I scream lesbian to you?"

"Uh, what? No! No no no no no, Santana. I just... I thought I heard Brittany say something about you getting a 'daddy' in jail yesterday and that you'd probably like it... and then something about being Lebanese. So I assumed that's Britt code for um... yeah."

"I can't believe you'd think I was a lesbian! Way to be a prejudice asshole! I'm going to have a BF!" She slams a bowl on the counter; back still turned away from me, "No! I'm going to write a letter! I'm going to call your mother!" She sounds pissed.

"My mom? What? Wait, don't write a... a _letter_! What's a BF?" I'm stumbling over my words like Charlie Sheen on a treadmill. "San, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-."

She turns around, mouth full of popcorn and bursts out laughing. I'm lost. What the hell is going on?

"Have you never watched White Chicks Aria?" A smirk crosses her face. "I'm a total Lesbo. I'm the biggest, hottest, stiletto wearing, Melissa Etheridge loving lesbian in all of homoland." She says, matter of factly.

I can't help but laugh. "Homoland?"

"Yeah, it's like candyland... only more gay. Kurt basically owns it." A shadow crosses her face as she says Kurt, and I can see her hurt feelings a bit more clearly now. Before I can say anything though, the brief flicker of emotion is replaced with a sassy smile, and she nudges me with a wink. "Anyway, let's stop getting off track. Who's the dude? Is he like your brother or something? Because even though I'm a lady lover, I do have eyes, and he's hot. Y'know in like a Harry Potter, coffee house, literature nerd kind of way."

"He's my boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. Guess I should go through and take those pictures down." It comes out sadder than I hoped. Just when I thought I was getting over him...

"Oh." Santana turns and hands me a big red plastic bowl full of popcorn.

"Oh? That's it?" I ask, taking the bowl from her with a confused smile.

"Well, yeah. You're obviously still hurting so we'll drop it."

I nod, silently thanking her for not pressing the issue.

"Anyway, so I figured we'd watch the movies in my room. That way we can avoid any and all awkward encounters with my 'friends'," She users finger quotes, "You never know when they'll roll through."

I cock my head to the side. That was a weird transition, and I'm beyond confused. "Maybe you should just hear them out, they feel bad about what they did."

"No they don't, otherwise they'd be here. It's whatever though." She reaches for her bowl on the counter beside her and brushes past me in the direction of her bedroom. Sighing heavily, I follow. I don't know what else to say. Yeah, they did wrong when they Free Willy'd and abandoned her in LA, but I do understand where they're coming from. At the same time though I can understand what Santana is saying too. I wish I could just refuse to choose sides."

She plops down on the bed, patting the space beside her.

"You're way to excited for this movie." I laugh.

"Hell yeah! 80s movies are the best. John Hughes is a genius. I mean come on The Breakfast Club, Weird Science, Pretty in Pink, Bueller, 16 candles... I could go on for days. He's a legend and his movies are A-M-A-Z-I-N."

"G." I add.

"G? What's 'G'? Gangster?" Her faces scrunches in utter confusion.

"No, you _forgot_ the 'G' in amazinG."

"And...?"

I grab a pillow, placing it behind my head and maneuver myself in order to get comfortable. "Never mind. I said nothing." I begin to laugh, but it's cut short by her quizzical stare. I shift uncomfortably under her gaze. "What?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a habit of making yourself at home?"

"No."

"Well, now they have." She shoots a piece of popcorn at me.

"Hey!" I gasp, throwing a piece right back.

Now we're in an all out popcorn war. Popcorn is flying everywhere. We're ducking and weaving, chucking handfuls of popcorn. Santana finally gets the upper hand and the title 'popcorn fight champion of the world' when she pins me down and straddles me, dumping the bowl of remaining popcorn over my head. Our breathing is "cray", as she would say, and we're laughing like hyenas by the time it's all said and done.

"I'll be right back. We needs more popcorn. A movie isn't a movie without the corn." She walks out of the room and I can't help but notice her apparel. Were her shorts always that short?

"Hey, Ar!" I hear from the kitchen and I'm snapped out of my stupor. "Do you want any toppings? Extra Butter? Salt? Chocolate syrup? There are a couple of other spices in here too? Garlic? Old Bay? Chili powder? Anything in particular?"

"Um... Extra butter! Please and thank you!"

"Kay!"

She enters the room moments later with a new bowl of popcorn and a bag of Twizzlers. She thanks me when I dust the excess popcorn from our fight off of the bed and sets the new bowl between us. Without hesitation she shovels a handful of popcorn into her mouth and turns to me, "Wan om?" It's distorted and muffled, and she takes a big gulp as I wipe the popcorn she spit on me from under my eye. "Hey, you got a little something there." She points.

"Yeah, I wonder why?" I purse my lips.

"Sorry." She sticks her tongue at me and I do the same to her.

"So, what's up first?"

"The best movie of all time... The Breakfast Club!" She yells excitedly as she pumps her fist in the air. "So, are you a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess, or a criminal?"

I stare at her, blinking animatedly. "Wow..." I drawl out.

"What?"

"You really are a weirdo." She smacks my arm and I let out a loud laugh. It's followed by a snort that would put Wilbur to shame. I cover my mouth and look at her through surprised eyes.

"Did you just snort?" she's laughing now.

I shake my head and squeak out a 'no'.

"Uh-huh."

I clear my throat and recompose myself. "I'm... I'm a basket case. You?"

She shovels another handful of popcorn in her mouth, most of it ending up in her lap. "Criminal. I'm totally the John Bender type."

"No way! Your definitely a Claire." She shoots me a look that says, 'seriously'. "You're totally a princess." I sing song.

"Shush. I ain't no damn princess."

"MmHm", I mumble through a mouthful of popcorn.

"You ever see Princess Peach beat Mario's ass?" She asked, pausing and looking over at me.

I say nothing. She has a point.

She presses play, hits the lights, and in no time at all we're lost in the magic of the 80's.

* * *

**A/N: Okay first off, I AM SO SORRY! I said that this was going to be posted the night of chapter 4 (or the following day) and I didn't post. There's a reason behind that madness though... I read through the chapter and I didn't like it. The thought of Santana returning home without her friends greeting her made me sad. So, I scrapped it and started the chapter from scratch. Well, the rewrite was horrible and I ended up going with my original idea. The thought of no greeting still makes me sad but I think it will add to the drama a bit. **

**Also, Reviews are like a hookah to me. I love them and read each and every one of them. This is just as much of your story as it is mine. So, I love hearing what you've liked, things you disliked, stuff you want to see happen, and so on. **

**Also, heads up... next chapter is going to start out with the morning after but then jump to a couple of weeks later. That way we pick up the pace of this story. What do you guys think?**

**Keep it Synful. And as always, may the odds be ever in your favor.**

**LOL, jk. Bye guys. **

**~Syn**


	6. Chapter 6

_**DISCLAIMER: Sadly, I don't own Glee or Pretty Little Liars (it would be awesome though). I don't own the characters but I DO own the majority of this story line.**_

_**SHOUTOUT to all of the people who've read, reviewed, and followed! You guys are the best. Especially, the people who have reviewed. Thank you so much! You guys are the best! #SANTARIA**_

_**X**_

_**MAJOR SHOUTOUTS TO...**_

_**... My Little sis, kcuffykidd96! You are on awesome beyond reason. Love you girlie!**_

_**... Nayaholic13 and LazyWriterGirl! I love reading your reviews. They make me smile.**_

_**... Crem! I will have to check out 'Uncle Buck,' just to make sure. XD**_

_**X**_

_**As promised, here is chapter 6. I'm so, so, so sorry this is late. I feel like I keep apologizing, and for that I'm sorry too but school is killing me right now. It's like my professors have it out for me. So. Many. Exams. BUT! To make up for it I made this chapter super lengthy!**_

_**Expect chapter 7 in a week or so. **_

_**Remember R&R! Enjoy!**_

* * *

_**Chapter Six**_

_**Santana POV**_

_**Baby we don't need no script for this. Imma throw a couple thousand baby, strip for this. Let me pull my camera out and make a movie, yeah. Starring, you and me, yeah...**_

Ringing phone. Phone's ringing. "Nooooo... Too early. More sleep." I groan, twisting my covers in my arms and rolling over.

_**Baby we don't need no actresses. Lemme see what I'm workin' with, imma break your back, with this. Let me pull my camera out. Let's make a movie, yeah. Starring you and me, yeah, yeah girl...**_

_Maybe if I pretend I don't hear it, it will go away_. I pull a pillow over my head and breathe into the mattress. After a few more rings, mercifully, the room goes silent. _Thank goodness_.

I stretch lazily, and then sink back down with a sigh, nuzzling into the memory foam and trying to get comfy. Just as I'm drifting back off into a sleepy haze, my phone goes off again. Who ever it is on the other line had better be vomiting blood and barbed wire, because you do not wake up Santana Lopez any time before 2 on the weekend. You just don't. Can't they take a hint?

Reaching over to the left side of the bed and searching blindly for a spare pillow, I pull it to me and place that over my head too, in hopes of drowning out Chris Brown and Twista's harmonized sexual fantasies (note to self: Change Ringtone. ASAP). This is such torture that I find myself unable to even remember a time when I actually liked the song, even though just yesterday I'm almost certain it had been on repeat while I was in the shower.

Hmmm... nope. Denying it.

Realizing that the person on the other end is clearly not giving up, and deciding to give them fair opportunity to write their early wills, I sigh in defeat and reach my arm out of the cozy cocoon of blankets. I pat around for my phone on the bedside table, knocking things down onto the floor in the process, and finally my hand closes around the familiar solid weight. I lift my head from beneath my pillow cave with a grunt and squint through my bed hair to check out the caller I.D.

_**BLOCKED**_.

Really? Why call at the crack of dawn's ass if you don't have the _cojones_ to provide your god damned name? The ring tone ceases, but I don't even allow myself to revel in that small glory. It's not going to last. I glance up at my alarm clock... **10:15 AM**. I can't help the groan that escapes me. Seriously, it's not even noon. What could be that important?

Sure enough, the phone's alert begins _again_, loud and blaring in the morning's calm quiet, and I think to myself that if I ever meet Chris Brown in person I will personally feed him one of me and Britt's old sex tapes, since that's what he wants so badly. The second verse picks up, and ending my brief debate, I decide to find out the identity of this mysterious _**BLOCKED**_, if for nothing else than effective homicide planning.

I pick up the phone.

"Speak." It comes out gruff, and harsher than I'd intended.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" A raspy voice whispers down the line,

"Who is this?" I ask, voiced slurred like a hobo with a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

"Have you checked the children?" I'm about to snap, cuz it's early as shit and this person's playing games, but something stops me. I know that voice.

"Hanna?" I ask, knowing that's not right but needing to go through my suspects out loud anyway. "Weezy...? Em?" No, it's none of them. Not that any of those voices sound alike at all anyway, but still. The other end is giving me nothing. Silence.

"Alright, I'm done with this conversation lover-shim. I'm hanging up now. Goodnight!" Just as I'm about to press 'End Call', a voice shouts through the speaker.

"San, wait! Don't hang up!" I pause, cocking my head in confusion. _Aria_?

"Aria?" I ask, and I hear that one-of-a-kind laughter that immediately confirms my suspicion.

"Yeah. Hey!" She sounds very much awake.

"Hey? Aria, it's hella early!" I can't believe this.

"I know and I'm sorry but I was bored and-."

"At 10 in the morning?" I snap, cutting her off. I don't mean to be a jerk, but let's face it: She's lucky to even be breathing right now.

"Not the point." She hurries on quickly, clearly unoffended by my morning bitch. "The point _is_ I was hoping to wake you up early, so we could, ya know, hang out, hit the beach... maybe get an ice cream or something?"

Her voice is hopeful, and I say nothing. Let her suffer.

"Double scoop..." She teases, and I finally give in and chuckle. Only she would be thinking about ice cream this early in the morning.

"Aren't you tired of me yet?" I ask, meaning it to be sarcastic, but only managing to sound amused. God, what is it with this chick? The filter she puts on me, you wouldn't even believe. Since when has anyone ever censored Santana Lopez? And when have I ever gave a damn about hurting anyone's feelings?

"Of course not Santana!" She pipes up, her voice happy and energetic, and I swear, the rainbows and sunshines this girl is radiating through my phone is making me light headed. "Why?" She asks suddenly, sounding worried. "Are you tired of me?"

"What? No! I'd never get tired of you, Aria." I rush to reassure her without even thinking. The other end is silent, and I clap a hand over my mouth, in shock over what I had just said. "Shit, Aria, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I mean, not that I _don't_ like spending time with you, because I do! I just, I didn't mean it to come out like that, like in a creepy, Pedo-Bearish kind of way, and I'm really, really sorry..." my ramble trails off, and the Aria's end of the line remains silent.

_Oh God, she's probably terrified. Good going dipshit. Real good. Must you always go on stupid with her? That girl is going to go running like a- _Aria's laughter suddenly breaks through my phone, nearly deafening me, and I can only stare at the device with wide eyes and thank the Lords.

"No, San. I completely understand." She gasps out, between her fits of laughter. "You are so adorable when you get like that though! I never thought anyone could get Santana Lopez flustered!" She's off again, absolutely dying, and I join in half-heartedly, trying to get over myself.

_If only she knew._ I think miserably, considering just how often Ms. Aria Wide Eyes Montgomery has gotten this certified fine ass Lesbian flustered. It's actually happened quite a bit over the last few weeks. Oh Lord, somebody kill me now. Since when do I have _emotions_?

And I am directly breaking Gay Code Rule #1: Never fall in love with a straight person. I mean, I'm not in _love _with the girl, but I'm damn sure crushing, and like seriously? That shit is forbidden. And I'll be damned to say that I'm the only one. If my hot topic gaydar is anything to go by, Little Miss Straight as a Toothpick might actually be a bit more of a bendy straw. She has definitely been giving signs, and I don't give a damn what anyone says. Flirting is flirting.

And we have been spending a lot of time with each other. It's been about a month since the whole 'bail out' incident, it's a distant memory, and we hardly even bring it up any more. Well, some of us. Hanna and Kurt still find it hilarious, but it's whatever. The point is, ever since that all went down, more night than not find her curled up in my bed or on my couch.

Speaking of, it's also been a month since everyone's apologized. Not that I needed to hear it. I knew that they meant well but I was too damn stubborn to admit it to myself at first. Some good did come out of my stubbornness though, I made a new friend, and Aria is amazing. She's funny, smart, hot as hell (_what? I do have eyes ya know_), and she doesn't put up with my crap. When I'm with her I'm less of a bitch. It's weird but I like it...

...

...

...

Gahh, fine, I'll admit it.I like _her_.

Anyway, the day after our movie night, I woke up and found everyone waiting for me in the living room. Rachel, always the dramatic, ran up to me, threw her arms around me, and sobbed in the crook of my neck... for 25 minutes. Everyone else kind of just played it cool and apologized like normal people. Damn, Berry. Ruined a good pajama shirt that day.

But anyway, the point of the matter is: We're all cool now.

"Hey, you still there?" Aria's uncertain voice broke through my thoughts.

"What? Yeah! No! I just- um..." Think Santana, think! "Just, um, I'm not a Pedo-Bear."

"Mmmhmm... um, are you feeling okay?" She asked with a nervous laugh. _Way to go Santana. Now she probably thinks you're delusional. Well, what are you just sitting there for? Try to fix this!_

"What I meant is," I clear my throat, "I like spending time with you." It comes out really quiet.

"Awwww..." She's mocking me. I hate her.

I'm fucking lying.

"Whatever." I snicker. "I'm going back to sleep."

"No, you're not. Get up. Get showered. Get dressed. Meet me in the lobby at 11:15. We're going out for breakfast."

Before I can protest, the line is dead. Guess I'm going to breakfast.

* * *

_**ARIA POV**_

I roll out of bed and head to the living room. Mercedes, Hanna, Brittany, and Kurt are sitting on the couch, eyes glued to the TV, with breakfasts in hand. Hanna has a trail of milk running down her mouth and Kurt just looks kind of constipated. I look over to the kitchen and I see Quinn embracing her inner "chef". I mean, personally, I'd never eat it. But that's just me.

"Hey, Q." I say, just a little too loudly. She jumps a bit, spinning around and clutching a piece of bacon to her heart.

"My God, Ar. You scared me!" She pouts, before turning back to mind the sizzling lumps of charred fat she calls "bacon". "You're up early. I assumed you'd spent the night with Santana again."

"Nah..." I sigh, absentmindedly picking at the place mat laid before me on the breakfast bar. "I missed my bed too much."

"Well good. We've missed you. Most of us are going to go shopping in the city later, you in?" she lines a fresh ton of bacon on the skillet before turning back around to face me.

"Rain check?" I send her an apologetic smile.

"Santana?" she asks, and there goes that eyebrow.

It's called the Quinn FaBitch death glare, and it's never fails to make me feel uneasy. Thank God this one isn't serious, judging by the knowing smirk edging on her face.

"Oh look! The Power Puff Girls!" I look over in the direction of the TV, trying to deflect, but from the corner of my eye I can see that she hasn't budged. I swing back around in resignation to face her.

"You guys have been very chummy lately..." Quinn muses, looking at me. I'm looking anywhere but. Receiving no response, she continues. "We hardly ever see you guys around here anymore. Not to mention how your eyes always light up when she's around, or when someone brings her up in conversation. And she's the exact same way. Honestly, ever since we've been in L.A., San has been 1000 times happier, and nicer too."

My eye lands on the cheesy little swinging cat's tail clock (Ask Brittany) above the sink, and I pretend to be fixated on that. Inside though, I want to giggle and cry and scream all at the same time. Why is it that Quinn understands my feelings more than I do? And did she mean it when she said Santana looks at me the same way?

I mean, not that I _care_, or anything...

Quinn's eyes soften for a moment, and I can tell she's about to say something awkward and sentimental, but then her eyes change and the poker face is back, and she turns back around to the greasy slabs of pork being incinerated on the stove. She picks back up the conversation, as I knew she would, and I nod along and try to listen but really all I can think about (Ya know, now that ya _mention_ it) is Santana.

The thought of me making Santana smile is a bit overwhelming. We've known each other for just about a month but she's all I can think about. I don't know why. She's really sweet, apparently only to me, but that can't be the only reason I can't get her out of my mind.

"... Anyway, she's been through a lot and..."

I don't know. She's cute. That was the first thing I noticed about her when I first saw her. She threw open the door and my heart sped up. She was gorgeous. That tan skin, dark brown eyes, a body to die for, long raven colored hair. Does anybody have a glass of water? I'm feeling a bit thirsty.

"... She was always so distant, but then..."

And then that day in the bathroom, when I helping clean her up, our skin met as my fingers brushed across her face, and it felt like fire. She had to of felt it too because I saw her shiver. I think. _God Aria! Now you're making stuff up. You need to chill. She's gay; you're straight, deal with it and move on._

... She always pretends to be this badass, hardcore..."

I remember at that moment I wanted nothing more than to lean in close, and for our lips to meet. I feel like it would have realigned solar systems and shattered the moos at hat point. The urge was strong, and it was scary, but I think I was going to go for it. I could almost envision just pulling her to me and pressing her lips to mine. But of course with Hanna and her impeccable timing... Wait, why do I even care? I can't _kiss _Santana.

"... I've only seen her cry once, like really cry. Not the 'you love her more than me.' 'Does this dress make my ass look fat?' 'I'm going to buy a cat. It's the only pussy I'll get that will love me back,' type bullshit she does when she drinks too much..."

We're just really good friends. I mean, sure, I was the first to volunteer when we pulled money together to bail her out. But it was just because it was the right thing to do! Right? No... Okay, no, I'm lying. I know somewhere deeper that it was more than that. It was because I wanted to know, needed to know, that she was okay.

The whole ride there I felt like someone had put me in a icy metal vest, and the breathlessly cold pressure of it was constricting me. It just kept getting tighter and tighter, until finally I pulled up and there she was, a little further down the street but close enough, and I saw her face, worried but radiant in the bright sunshine. Any remaining ice was melted away when she saw me, and smiled. That was amazing.

That was scary.

It can't just be me though. We've had countless movie nights that have ended with us either cuddling, or me lying in her lap as she runs her fingers through my hair, and I like it. We may even be a little _too_ touchy feely, but that's just how we are. I've always been a cuddler, but again, it seems more than just that. It's like my body has a mind of it's own and it's always finding a reason to be close to San. I like it a lot but _I'M NOT A LESBIAN GOD DAMNIT. I AM NOT. I AM NOT. I AM NOT._

"So yeah, that's Santana in a nutshell. Ooh! Bacon's done." Quinn piles the bacon on a plate, pours herself a glass of orange juice, and takes a seat on the breakfast bar beside me. I just stare at her, and hope she hadn't been saying anything important.

I watch as Quinn manhandles the plate of bacon sitting in front of her. It's like watching Animal Planet, when a lion feasts on it's prey. It's kind of gross. I don't know how this girl manages to be so thin. The only thing I've seen her eat since living here is bacon and pizza. Sometimes bacon on top of pizza.

"Um... Q?" I ask, eyeing her questioningly. "How many packs of bacon are on that plate."

She looks down at her plate, then back to me, eyes damn near glazed with happiness. She reminds me of a baby with a bottle.

"Four." She says finally, looking at the pate and regarding it with nothing less than love.

"Holy shi-." I don't even finish that thought. "Four? Four packs of _bacon_?! Quinn, do you have a death wish?"

"I like bacon." She says with a shrug, picking up another piece and holding it up to the light. "Besides it's low fat."

"Alrighty then." I say, as that poor doomed bacon disappears into her grease covered mouth. "And on that note, I have to get ready for breakfast. Bye-bye Q." I push myself up off the stool and head for the front door, leaving Quinn to her carnivorous undertakings. "Bye guys!" I call over my shoulder

"Bye honey! Have fun on your date!" Kurt yells from the living room.

"It's not a date!" I yell back in sing-song.

He laughs. "Keep telling yourself that sweetheart. You guys aren't fooling anyone!"

_Except maybe ourselves..._ I think to myself regretfully, righting my shoulders and taking a deep breath, and I close the door behind me.

* * *

_**Santana POV**_

So, here I am, waiting in this lobby (because no one in their right mind would be up this early on a Sunday), which is basically vacant other than people who were shuffling in and out for work. Sucks for them. I've been here for a while now, definitely longer than necessary, and I've been dozing on and off. The first couple times the elevator doors opened, my eyes would shoot up, hoping it was Aria bouncing out through those grey metal doors, but it wouldn't be her. Then those solid metal doors would clang shut, and I couldn't help but imagine my heart in between them. I'm blaming that one on lack of sleep.

Now I'm kind of just slumped over on this bench in the corner, semi-conscious and trying not to die. I probably look high.

I'll give her a couple more minutes, but after that I'm taking my sleepy ass back up that elevator and to my bed. I don't even know why I'm down here. Damn girl has me whipped and she doesn't even know it.

25 minutes later, and she's still not here. As much as I loved to be woken up, cleaned up, and stood up in this sticky, humid lobby, I wants to gets my sleep on. I drag myself off of the bench and sulk over to the elevator doors. I'm not even going to lie and say my feelings aren't a little hurt, but hey: I can question Aria later. Right now, I just want my pillows. Lucky for me, the elevator is it's on its way down.

**6...**

**5...**

Would Ar be mad if I sat this one out? We hang out all of the time. I don't think she'll mind. I mean for the past month we've hung out practically every single day.

**4...**

**3...**

Maybe I should shoot Ar a text saying I have like, explosive diarrhea or something. It's a fake enough excuse to get me out of this, not that I really want to, but I don't want to seem all clingy and desperate. That's not a look Santana Lopez sports. Besides, I'm tired. It's a month into school and I've already had like 5 exams, 4 of them in the same class.

**2... **

_**DING!**_

The doors open, and I step in just as someone is stepping out. Of course, my clumsy, half-asleep ass is directly in their way, and we collide. Figures.

"Sorry. You alright?" I mumble, turning to face the stranger and reaching for my assaulted shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-." They stop talking and look up at me, and I'm met with bright familiar hazel eyes and the biggest smile I think I've ever seen.

Good morning Aria.

"Good morning, Sunshine!" I say, forcing enthusiasm and really just dying inside. _Until we meet again, fair bed. _I think sadly.

"Oh, stop complaining." She scolds, but then her face changes to confusion. "Were you heading up?" Busted.

"Um, yeah. I was looking for you?" Lie.

Aria doesn't even notice. "I'm_ so_ sorry. I had one foot out of the door when Brittany starting having computer trouble, and she wouldn't' let anyone help her at first, something about her not being as dumb as everyone says she is. Eventually, she let us help her out." She looked at me ironically, and then shrugged. "Quinn clicked the power button. Oh! And I watched Quinn eat four packs of bacon. By herself."

I nod in understanding. Britt has had that computer since high school, and yeah it's a MacBook or whatever, but it was on its last leg then and I can only imagine it now. She isn't exactly what you'd call Stephen Hawkings, and even tech-savvy would be overstating her. Let's just say that up until last year, she thought that pushing the power button on the TV remote would make the TV get stronger.

I don't know. Don't ask.

And as for Quinn, she's always been gross.

"So... you ready for breakfast? I found this really cool place over by the Santa Monica Pier the other day. It's right across from the beach. Joe's Diner, I think it was called?" She looked at me for confirmation, but I had nothing.

"Never heard of it, but it sounds good to me. We can eat freaking toaster strudels, for all I care. I just need food. Now." She smiles at me, thinking I'm kidding, as I grab her arm and steer her towards the door. "Kidding" my ass. Maybe when I start chewing on her car mat she'll understand.

She allows herself to be dragged, laughing at my intense need for nourishment. Oh yeah, laugh away Aria. I find this starvation situation absolutely _hilarious_.

Not.

I release her arm and run ahead of her to grab the door. "After you." I wave out the door dramatically. She gives me a quizzical look but I continue to wave out of the door. " Come on, I'm practically eating myself right now." I whine.

"That's what she said." She laughs and runs out the door, avoiding my hand as I reach out to smack her.

"Wanky!" I yell and run after her.

X

Millenniums of key fumbling and mirror adjusting later, we're finally on our way. However, we're not really on much of a way _anywhere_. Not only is Aria driving maddeningly slow for someone transporting a ravenous Latina cavewoman, but it seems like we're getting every damn red light in the freaking city.

We've got the top down, R. Kelly blasting (I dunno. Aria's iPod.), and it's beautiful outside but my growling midsection is blocking all of that out and all I can do is keep fidgeting and twisting in my seat. Plus Aria keeps yelling at me for propping my feet on the dashboard, as if I can help it. _Ahh, good times._

I don't remember being this hungry even like an hour ago. At this point I can't even _imagine_ having actually intended to go upstairs and go back to sleep.

_Surely_ I would have died.

"Ooh, ooh, ooh! Let's play the radio game!" Aria shouts.

"The what?" I'm confused.

"You know... you ask the radio a question, hit scan, well, I guess turn the dial in our case, and it gives you an answer. Kinda like a magic 8 ball."

"Times must have been hard in PA, huh?" I laugh.

"Shut up. It's fun." She retorts. "Here, I'll go first." She drifts off for a moment into deep thought. I'm seconds from a panic attack, and I'm about to shake her and tell her to watch the goddamn road before we crash and burn when a light bulb seems to go off in that pretty little head of hers.

_Wait, did I just say _pretty_? _

"Oh, wise radio gods..." Aria begins in a ludicrous Hawaiian monotone, and it reminds me of tiki torches and totem poles. "Give us a hint as to what's in store for us on this fine Sunday afternoon? Please and thank you." She turns the dial a couple times until the static clears and a station comes in. I immediately recognize it as **Tegan and Sara**. (Hardy-har-har. Go ahead. Insert lesbian joke there, folks.)

**All I want to get is a little bit closer  
All I want to know is, can you come a little closer?  
Here comes the breath before we get a little bit closer  
Here comes the rush before we touch, come a little closer**

_Well, this isn't ironic at _all_..._ I think, before forcing that thought away. Aria's straight. Why in the hell can't I wrap my beautiful, lusciously permed head around that?

**The doors are open, the wind is really blowing  
The night sky is changing overhead**

**It's not just all physical  
I'm the type who will get oh so critical  
So let's make things physical  
I won't treat you like you're oh so typical  
I won't treat you like you're oh so typical**

I muffle a laugh, knowing what's coming next, and out of the corner of my eye I see Aria look over at me in confusion. She's clueless.

**All you think of lately is getting underneath me  
All I'm dreaming lately is how to get you underneath me**

I glance over, and Aria face is _priceless_. Her eyes are wide (well, wider than usual), and I can tell she wants to change the radio but doesn't know how to do it without making this moment even more awkward than it already is. I'll help her in a minute, but for now I just want to savor this. It's hilarious.

**Here comes the heat before we meet a little bit closer  
Here comes the spark before the dark, come a little closer**

"Okay, okay, my turn." I say, cutting Tegan off with a turn of the dial. "Tegan's a bit optimistic about today, I guess." I say, without really thinking about it.

I freeze instantly, realizing the implications of what I'd just said, and wonder desperately for a moment why someone doesn't just shove a cactus down my throat and be done with it.

Luckily, Aria's oblivious, still caught up in the embarrassment of the moments before. I believe I thanked every God, deity, and whomever else in the bright blue sky for that one. I really need to get this under control.

I sigh, shaking my head, and refocus my attention on the task at hand. What was it again? Oh yeah! The radio game or whatever. Okay, so what to ask? What exactly does one ask a radio?

"Oh wise radiogays-" I begin.

"Gods." Aria corrects.

"Right, sorry. Oh wise radio _gods_... ummm, what does the... upcoming weekend, look like for me?" I ask uncertainly, turn the dial furiously and hoping that the radio will just play nice and give me "We Are Young", by fun., or something.

Oooooof course not.

**Three, six, nine, damn your fine**

**Move it till you sock it to me one more time**

**Get low, get low (Get low), get low (Get low), get low (Get low)**

**(Come on!)**

**To the windows (Give dem di dance now)**

**To the wall (To the wall) (Bust di dance now)**

**Till sweat drop down my balls (My balls)**

**All these bitches crawl (crawl)**

**Y'all skeet, skeet motherfu-.**

"Okay, moving on." I say, turning the dial furiously until I hear nothing but a white static buzz. I slouch back into my seat, and consider the radio sarcastically; So much for the "radio gods". I turn in my seat so I'm facing Aria, and take in her face with an amused smirk. She's bright red, and her mouth is pulled into a pained looking grimace as she stares directly ahead of us at the stoplight that has once again, delayed my breakfast. I just stare at her until, not being able to hold it in any longer, Aria explodes into laughter.

"Shut up." I say, refusing to join in and playing the hurt feelings card.

She pulls herself together enough to look at me and whisper through her giggles "All the bitches crawl, Santana?"

When I say I died, I mean it with every fiber of my soul and being.

* * *

_**Aria POV**_

Breakfast, well actually it was lunch when we arrived, was amazing. Santana said she felt weird ordering breakfast so she ordered a cheeseburger. I followed suit, only ordering a veggie burger instead, and we split fries. We got separate milkshakes though, thank God. That one would've been awkward.

I think I've found my new spot, though. Joe's has definitely found themselves returning customers. I only wish they didn't have _so_ many vegetarian and vegan options, because it was so hard to choose.

Hmmm, maybe I should bring Rachel here.

On second thought, I think I'll pass.

Right now we're walking along Santa Monica beach. Santana has already hoisted me over her shoulder twice and threatened to run into the ocean with me.

Uh-uh, Rico Suave. In her words: 'I'm not about that life.'

It's almost October and the weather is unbelievably warm; way warmer than it would be back home at this time of year. I love it. I love Los Angeles... I love my apartment... I love my roommates and friends... I love Santana...

...Holy shit, I did not just think that.

_Anyway_, we make it to the Pier and I've never been more excited in my life. I've seen it on TV and in movies but now I'm experiencing it for the first time in person. Santana's trying to act all suave (no pun intended) and nonchalant, but the grip she has on my hand says otherwise.

Like I've said, our bodies are like magnets. They always find their way toward each other. But, ya know, not that _I'm_ complaining.

Anyhow, it's like towing an excited three year old through Toys R' Us. She's pulling me from stand to stand, holding up sea shells and necklaces and little trinkets, pointing wildly at the passing attractions... I, on the other hand, am just watching her taking it all in with a stupid smile on my face, because it's honestly one of the cutest things I've ever seen. The Pier has got nothing on Santana. I mean, who but lucky me gets to see her like this? She's just so... happy.

"I'm hungry. You hungry?" She pipes up suddenly

"Santana we just ate."

"I know but it all smells so good." She inhales deeply. "We should make our rounds, scope the place out, and then do some damage. This pier won't even know what hit 'em." Her grin is bigger than the Cheshire cat as she drags me along, and I couldn't tell her "no" if I wanted to.

We circle the whole thing twice before deciding that our first stop should be the Pier Aquarium. Believe it or not, I've never actually been _inside_ an aquarium, per say, but I'm game.

Yep, totally game.

MmHmm...

Okay no, I'm lying. I'm terrified. Swimmy things freak me out, and aquariums are my worst nightmare. But Santana's excited, and who am I to ruin her fun? Squiddies, here we come.

As Santana leads me excitedly down the roped off walkway towards the big, seashell-shaped doors, I look up at the sky and grin in contentment. Aquarium or not, nothing could top this day.

Once inside, we are thrown into a churning sea of people. Santana's hold on my had tightens (I guess she's afraid she'll lose me in here. I'm not that big.), and the soft, comforting pressure makes my heart warm. We step apart and lift our arms in an arch as two small kids race between us, laughing loudly and trailing bobbing balloons behind them. Me and San just look at each other and smile.

Now that I think about it, there are a _lot_ of kids in here, milling about in groups or with their parents. Children's laughter literally seems to bounce off of the curved walls and ceiling as they take in all the small animals and crustaceans around them.

Okay, so maybe they aren't _all_ small, but still...

I can't help but feel like we're a bit big to be traipsing around in this Aquatic Wonderland (Hell, the carpet has stars on it), but Santana's not complaining, and I honestly couldn't care less.

After seeing a Mermaid Show (Okay, half of one. Santana accused one of the dolphin actresses of being a "gay shark", and told her to come out of the closet already. We were asked to leave.), listening to Santana argue with a kid who pushed her out of the way when she was 'talking' with the seahorses, buying a few souvenirs, and taking tons of pictures, we push our way back out through an incoming crowd of excited people and exit the building with all of our limbs intact.

"You eat fish right?" Santana asks as we pause on the pier, her standing on her toes trying to see above the crowd.

I look up at her, unsure of whether or not she's being serious. "Is that some kind of gay joke from _'Homo-land'_"? I ask uncertainly, risking being the pervy one this time.

She raises an eyebrow at me as she sinks back down to the ground, shaking her head. "Your mind, and the places it goes sometimes." I blush as Santana laughs, holding her face as she shakes her head in amusement before she continues. "I meant _seafood_, Aria. Do you eat seafood, or are you strictly leaves and tree bark?"

I give her a questioning look and she continues on hurriedly. "I mean, I uh-," there goes that nervous stutter again, "I read online that there are different levels of vegetarianism or veganism or whatever, but then again it was on Wikipedia so it's probably all bull. Anyway, I read that some vegetarians are flexible. Some eat fish, that's understandable. Some don't eat red meat, but chicken's in their diet. That I don't get but to each his own." She pauses her ramble and takes a deep breath. I wait as she re-gathers her thoughts.

"So do you eat fish or what?" She asks finally. "Cuz if not, we could still get some before we leave, take it home, and leave it outside of Rachel's bedroom door." A mischievous grin covers her face.

She's too damn cute. "You're cruel."

"You love it." She fires back.

"And to answer your question, I do eat seafood. Depends on what it is though. For example, crabs are way to too much work."

"Don't worry, I won't give you crabs." She winks and pulls me along, and I wonder briefly if this is what Gandhi meant when he said "Where there is love, there is life."

* * *

_**Santana POV**_

Somehow we end up in the arcade, and I'm in heaven. "Today has been pretty dope." I say, absently spinning a joystick with one finger as I look around the room for my next target. "We ate a good meal, I talked to a seahorse, yelled at a kid, and even saw Arielle and her three ugly stepsisters at the mermaid show."

"You mean the mermaid show _you_ got us kicked out of?" Aria asks teasingly, leaning against the Pac-Man machine beside me and following my gaze to the ski-ball lanes.

"That girl was a total cookie monster. I was trying to help _her_ out." I say, and pick a piece off of my funnel cake carefully. I don't want powdered sugar all over me, after all.

She doesn't say anything, and I can tell she's enjoying making me suffer. I pursue my point. "There's enough closet lesbians in this world. Wouldn't life be better as one big, gay, happy fairy tale?" I ask, looking down at her.

"Not at all." She says, and her tone is light but her laugh is empty and I see something dark cross her face as she breaks eye contact. It's just a moment thought, because before I can even say anything she lifts the funnel cake out of my hand and walks off.

"It totally would be!" I say, trying to defend myself. "Once upon a time, there were three little bears and a little girl named Goldilocks, and her hair was long as hell. Goldilocks broke into their house, went through all of their drawers, it's kinda her thing, and crashed on their bed. When she woke up, they chopped off her weave, dyed it red and then the wicked witch of the east, or some shit, cursed her, gave her fins and gills and all that good stuff, and banished her to the ocean until a prince came to save her."

I take a deep breath and swipe of piece of funnel cake from Aria before continuing.

"Well," I say through my mouthful of heaven, "she hit her head on a rock and passed out. Then this scuba diver guy named John Smith kissed her, BUT she wouldn't wake up. Soooo he got his sister Cruella DeVille to come Lock Lips with her, and she woke up and they had lots of Channing Tatum look-alike gaybies." I finish up the story and take the plate back from Aria.

"Wow, You are like the dumbest human-being walk this planet. Like really?" I hear from behind us and I'm met with a scowling little boy. He's got to be like, 7. "Even I know that was a bunch of bull, and I'm a dude."

"A dude you may be, but a man you are not. Real men read fairy tales, and you've got a lot less chest hair anyway." I say, tapping his chest lightly with one of my nails.

He mouth drops open and he looks at me, confused, so I just shoot him my meanest glare and growl. He runs (I guess for his mommy) and I turning back to Aria, who's less than pleased with me.

"Really, San?" She asks, and she's trying to be angry but I can see the laughter in her eyes.

"What?" I shrug before glancing back across the room. Great, there's a crowd at the ski ball lanes now. I sigh and check out the rest of our nearby options before finally deciding on the crane machine, which is full of stuffed animals. "Hold this for a sec and watch the magic." I hand her the things in my arms and bounce towards the crane, leaving her smiling and shaking her head behind me.

"He was like, 6!" She says, but now she's laughing openly, and I just smile at her over my shoulder.

"Well, he shouldn't be such a smart ass." I reply, ending the conversation, and out of the corner of my eye Aria raises an ironic eyebrow. I ignore her and insert my first two quarters.

After several tries and I don't even want to know how many dollars, I'm starting to lose hope, but I refuse to give up. Santana Lopez may be many things, but she is definitely not a quitter. "Alright, I got this." I say confidently, reaching for two more quarters, but my pile is empty. "Damn it."

"You said that half an hour ago." Aria laughs. "It's okay San, I'll buy you a stuffed elephant. Let's just go before you spend next month's rent on this crane machine." She pulls on my arm, trying to get me to follow, but when I turn around with a pout that I couldn't stop from forming, she lets go and concedes. She hands me two more quarters and I turn back to machine with my game face on. In go my quarters.

"_Clink. Clink. Welcome to Crazy Crane. Good luck!"_

Silence.

I maneuver the crane right over top of the elephant I've spent about a paycheck on thus far, determined that he shall be mine, and I shall name him Squishee. And he shall be my Squishee, and- all right. I'll stop.

Anyway, tension is building. I'm pretty sure that I'm starting to sweat. "A little to the left. No back a little more. Okay. Okay, right there. Stop." Aria directs.

I glance at her, unsure, but she just nods and I decide to let her have this one.

I drop the crane.

It latches onto the elephant.

It may seem silly but the nerves are killing me. What the hell am I stressing over this little 50¢ elephant for? Oh wait, that's right... because it's for Aria.

The crane slowly retracts, elephant still in its grasp. It moves over to the little opening, and time is excruciatingly slow. I actually feel like biting my nails. Then, just like that, it drops the toy, and I let out a huge breath as I grab the elephant and hold it high in the air.

We go nuts. Aria grabs my hands, and we're jumping around and cheering like we've won the lottery. People are dodging out of our way and giving us weird looks, but right about now they can suck my metaphorical dick. I've finally got Squishee.

Aria suddenly stops mid victory celebration. "I have to pee."

"Wow... way to ruin the mood, Ar." I say jokingly. "I think I saw one over..." I spin in circles looking for the bathroom, "There." I point and she nods, looking anxious.

"Onward!" I yell and pull Aria by the wrist in the direction of the bathroom. Honestly, I don't even care if I'm making a fool of myself. Aria seems to like it because she's been laughing nonstop all day and as cheesy as it sounds, her laugh is amazing. It's probably one of my new favorite sounds like ever. I could get used to this new, _happy_ Santana.

We make it to the bathroom and step inside. It smells awful. Like Clorox and death. Like shit took a shit, and had little flower-scented shit babies. Like- okay I think you get the point. Anyway, Aria sprints to one of the open stalls, slamming the door and throwing her purse on the floor. I cringe at the thought of all the bacteria that poor purse is now swarming with.

"I would of held onto that, if I were you. These floors are gross." I yell. Her hand reaches down and snatches it up, and I turn towards the mirror, checking my hair and makeup. "Wanna maybe hit the Ferris Wheel next?"

"I don't know Santana. We might get stuck at the top." She yells back, teasing me, but I can hear the smile that's probably plastered on her face. I don't know how she found out that I'm afraid of heights, but once she mentioned it the first time, I very specifically described the different ways I which I would force feed her a lawn mower if she ever told anyone. I think she got the point.

The bathroom door flies open and two women walk in, both around my age. One of the girls makes a quick break for a stall, while the other takes the sink next to mine and shoots me a smile.

She's hot, but like a fake kind of hot. Either she had a very bad car accident with a truck carrying Botox injections, or she's totally been under the knife. I smile back but I quickly turn away but I can still feel her mascara-drowned eyes on me. "Hey, I'm Nicole."

"That's nice." I say, attitude building already. Old Santana would have flirted the hell out of this chick. She would of made quick conversation, lifted the girl on the bathroom counter without any questions asked, and wouldn't have given a damn about who was in that bathroom or who walked in.

Well, I guess I left that Santana in Ohio. The new Santana is not about that life. Plus, I'm here with Aria. I like Aria. I _want_ Aria. What idiot would ruin that for knock off brand Maybelline Monster over here? Not me, that's for sure. I mean yeah, we're probably never going anywhere past friends (flirty friends, granted), but still.

The stall door opens and Aria steps out. She's eying the girl skeptically and if I'm not mistaken, there's an underlying scowl beneath the phony smile she's sporting. Oh-neooooo, I know that look anywhere, and real shit, I'm internally fan-girling. _She's jealous!_

"So, what's your name?" Nicole asks. This girl clearly hasn't gotten the hint. Okay, I'll play along.

"What's it to you?" I shoot.

"Oh, cuz, ya know. I'm a sucker for a pretty face, so long as her name starts with A-Z." She leans against the counter, and I force myself not to recoil.

"Oh, I'm sorry sweetie." Aria surprises me by jumping in. "Her name is 27, and she's not pretty, she's beautiful."

I shoot Aria a surprised look, and she glances over, her embarrassment clear, but doesn't step down.

"Well, well. Maybe I'd like to try numbers then. Starting with 27." Nicole turns to me. "Tell me, what's 27 taste like?"

This girl's pick up lines are terrible, and her breath smells like those little flower scented shit-babies had kids.

"Not your breath, sweet heart." I say, and Aria's eyes go wide with silent laughter. She fights to regain her attitude and straight face. Nicole just looks at me, face smug.

"Well, I bet a little 27 would sweeten my breath up a bit, don't ya think?"

"Um, I think a roll of toilet paper would sweeten _that_ breath up, _chienne._"

_Holy shit. Aria speaks French?_

"Now, unless you'd like me to introduce your mouth to one, I suggest you get the hell out of here, and away from my girl."

Nicole just looks back and forth from me to Aria for a moment, obviously wondering how serious Aria was.

"Um, you heard her, right? I know God couldn't have been so cruel as to have made you ugly and deaf. Get it stepping, Ringling Brothers." Her eyes widen even further, and I slam my palm on the counter to make my point. Truck Stop Hulk, high-tails it out of there, leaving her friend behind entirely.

As soon as the door closes, Aria leans on the counter and sighs. "I'm sorry, Santana, if you were trying to 'hit that'." She says finally, looking up at me wearily.

"Only with a truck." I say reassuringly, and she laughs. "Come on, go ahead and wash your hands so we can get to the Ferris Wheel before it closes. 'Your girl' is absolutely dying to ride it." I smirk and nudge her arm with my elbow, causing her to groan.

"You're the worst, Santana." She says miserably.

"Ya know, between me and you, I was actually kind of hoping Elderly Mutant Nicki Turtle wouldn't back off." I say.

"And why is that?" Aria asks, genuine curiosity covering her face, and I can hear a little bit of that hidden jealousy back into her voice. The fact that it's clearly involuntary is somehow the best part.

"Come on girl. Who wouldn't want to see you feed a Troll Face a roll of toilet paper?"

Aria snorted. "I wouldn't have done it, ya know."

I smirked. "Of course not." I say, peering into the mirror one final time and flipping my hair over my shoulder. "But a girl can dream, can't she?"

X

We're standing in front of the giant wheel in the middle of the pier. I have to basically crane my neck to see the top, and it's absolutely stunning to watch the dazzling lights revolve slowly against the dark October night sky. As we reach the front of the line, we step up, and I hand the guy our tickets.

I gesture toward the seat with an "After you, Milady." Which makes Aria giggle. She hasn't let go of my hand since the whole bathroom incident, and when Mrs. Trunchbull's Big Daddy Lady came out of her stall looking terrified, Aria all but hissed at her. When I was little I used to believe in fairytales, (Tell anyone, and- well, we're kinda past threats at this point, aren't we?) and _still_ I can't believe this girl is real.

Aria slides into the red metal bucket seat carefully, scooting over against the far end to make room for me. I hesitate, watching the little rust box swinging back and forth under Aria's weight, but she shoots me a reassuring smile and holds out her hand, which I take before stepping down cautiously. I sit down immediately and scoot over next to Aria, trying to ignore how hard this thing is rocking now. Meanwhile, the conductor guy or whatever, a slim, blonde, pimple-studded teenager in ripped jeans and an "I Love Jelly Bellies" T-shirt is giving us the run down of the rules. "No ROCKING. No SPITTING. No FOOD, DRINKS, SUNGLASSES OR OTHER LOOSE ARTICLES OF CLOTHING etc., And most importantly, HANDS AND FEET INSIDE AT ALL TIMES.

"Yeah, yeah. We got it dude." I say, still breathing a bit too heavily for my badass act to be believable. He just sighs and slams the bar down without another word.

The wheel jerks forward and Aria lets out a loud gasp and squeezes her eyes shut. Okay, so apparently I'm not the only one with a hidden fear of heights. As the ride still again to let on another rider, I look her over, concerned.

"You okay?" I ask, and she nods frantically but her eyes never open. Maybe the Ferris wheel wasn't such a good idea. I don't want to be the person responsible for Aria's heart attack. I reach forward for her hand slowly and interlock our fingers. Like a damn python her hand wraps around my own, ceasing all circulation. "It's okay. It's okay, I'm here." I say, and I think how it's funny that _I'm_ the one reassuring _her_.

I tap her shoulder with my free hand, and when she opens her eyes, I hold up Squishee with a big smile. Her eyes practically melt in relief, and she loosens her vise grip enough to wiggle out one hand and take the stuffed elephant gingerly. Just then however, the buckets jerks forward furiously, and I gasp and close my eyes, forcing myself to breathe deeply. When I open my eyes, Aria is clutching Squishee for dear life.

She finally opens her eyes again, and stares out at our surroundings. We're not at the top of the wheel yet but our view is amazing. I let her be for a moment, before nudging her with my shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me you were afraid of heights too, girlie? We could've done something else. _Anything_ else. We could've trolled the photo booth, made fun of people walking by, ate, had our caricatures drawn, anything."

"I'm not." She said stubbornly.

"Uh huh, sure." I say, because I mean, what else can you say to that?

"I'm not. It's just the thought of not being able to escape." She looks over at me, begging me to understand without her having to elaborate more, but I mean come on. I've known her for like a month. I don't know her well enough for this. I wish I did, but I just don't. So, I say nothing.

I guess she sees the look on my face because she tries to continue; only she can't. Her mouth opens and closes a couple times, but nothing comes out.

She looks me dead in the eyes and it kind of throws me off. I can't really read it. It's like she's staring into my soul, like she's looking right through me, into my core being. She's trying to tell me something, but I don't know what it is.

I lick my lips and look to my lap because I don't want to look into things too much. Maybe I'm making everything up? Maybe it's all in my head? All of the unnecessary touching, all of the sleepovers and hanging out was strictly platonic. All of the not so discrete stares from across the room, and everything, even the way she's gazing at me now, it's friendly. She's straight. She's getting over a bad break-up. Let's not forget one of the most important lesbian dating rules (or general dating rules I guess you could say because well Aria's not gay so it wouldn't make sense):

_Lesbian__ Dating rule #001: A relationship is seriously over, demolished, complete, and utter obsolete if/when the couple has had 5 or more break-ups and/or has been broken up for 6 months or longer. _

From what I've gathered, they've only broken up like twice, and the first time it wasn't even a real break-up. On top of that, it's only been like 3 months since their current one, but I mean, who's counting?

I just don't want to be wrong. I don't want to lose a friend. The scariest part about the whole thing is that I'm usually pretty good at understanding people, thanks to my psychic Mexican third eye, but I can't read her. I've tried. I've tried so many times, it's verging on Chuck Norris scary, but the reading always comes out blank.

We stay like this for a moment. A moment too long I guess because I caught it. Her eyes traveled from mine to my lips in less than a fraction of a second. Once. Twice. I don't give her a chance to do it a third time. I lick my lips and start to lean in closer, eyes staring into her own seeing if this is okay. She doesn't stop me, but I stop myself. I want her to be in control of this. I want her to make the decision. I know what I want, but what does she want?

Before I can make another decision, Aria whispers, "Everybody has a dark side." I don't even have time to wonder what the hell she's talking about though, because any thought I had after that moment was obliterated when she kissed me.

Aria was hesitant, but once her mouth found mine, it was like a jigsaw puzzle; everything just fit. Her lips move against mine in a way that shoots little electric points down my arms, and when she touches the side of my face gently, I shudder and pull her closer. As I wrap my hand behind her head into her long, dark hair, pulling her even closer to me, I am enveloped in her scent, her taste_, her._

I want to revel in this dark fantasy forever, but then she pulls away from me. My eyes are still closed, and I can still feel her mouth on mine. That was amazing! I've never felt anything like that before from a simple kiss. I open my eyes and lean on the bars for a minute, looking out over the darkened ocean before us, and breathe the cool night air into my lungs, trying to force away the dizziness that has overcome me.

Behind me I hear a sniffle, and when I turn around Aria has her face buried into her hands and is shaking her head back and forth, clearly distraught.

"Aria?" I ask cautiously reaching out to touch her back. She jerks away from my touch though, all but slamming herself against the bars on her side, and suddenly this little cart seems a lot smaller. She can't get far enough away from me. Oh God, what have I done?

I look away, my eyes burning and my throat hurting, and I'm trying not to cry because Santana Lopez does not cry, and- and... Damn it, I'm crying. I wipe away my silent tears angrily, and wonder why the fuck this damn Ferris wheel isn't moving. I look down, and lo and behold, the only modern technology installed in this little pre-Mesozoic era contraption is a button near the door labeled

"_If this button is blinking, the Ferris wheel is experiencing Technical difficulties, and should be up and running again in no time at all. Thank you for your patience and cooperation!"_

The goddamned button is blinking.

"Shit", I mutter.

At this, Aria looks up. I point at the light and look away. She's not going to see me cry over a stupid little kiss. Only it wasn't that little. Or stupid. But whatever.

A few moments pass, presumably she's reading the faded little sign, and then I hear her sob loudly. When I turn around, she's back in her huddled position, even further (if that's possible) away from me. _Oh yes, cry because you're stuck up here with horrible, terrible, straight-girl kissing _me_ for a little while longer. That doesn't sting at all._ I think sarcastically.

I sigh, pushing away my bitter thoughts; this isn't Aria's fault. I took advantage of her in her emotionally compromised state, and she has every right to be angry with me.

"Aria, please." I try again, but her face doesn't leave her hands, "It's okay. We-."

"No!" She says suddenly, looking up at me, hair wild and face tear streaked. Even in the pale moonlight I can see that her skin is drained of color. "No, no, no, NO! That didn't just happen that didn't ju-, no no no I- I have to go."

"We're on a freaking Ferris wheel, Aria. Where the hell are you gonna go?"

At this she breaks down even further, and begins hitting the railing. "Let me the fuck out of here!" She yells through her tears. I look down, and I can see people in the other seats twisting and craning their necks to try and see what's going on in our cart.

I take great joy in flipping them off. It's not like they can see me anyway.

Turning back to Aria, I grab her hands to make her to stop hitting the cart, and force her to face me. She looks into my eyes desperately, lips trembling, and I begin speaking, quietly and quickly.

"Aria, listen to me. You don't have to understand me, but just listen, okay?"

She nods, and I take a deep breath before I continue.

"What just happened, it's fine. It's okay. It doesn't have to mean anything, and it's entirely my fault."

I feel a little piece of me break off inside at these words, but it's what she needs to hear right now. "You don't have to forgive me. You don't ever have to talk to me again, and you can even hate me, but I need you to calm down before you hurt yourself." I pause fighting back another wave of tears.

"Or flip this damn cart over." I add, looking over the railing nervously. "Okay?"

She doesn't say anything, but she's calmed down, at least.

I release her wrists, and she pulls away, shrinking against her end of the cart. She doesn't even realize she's squeezing Squishee to her chest for comfort.

The light suddenly pops off, and I feel the whole Ferris wheel stutter and shake, before it starts moving again. Aria and I both sigh in relief.

As our cart touches down, the conductor dude is looking at us anxiously. "Hey! I'm sorry ladies, just a little malfunction. Is she okay?" He asks, gesturing towards Aria. I just glare at him and step up out of the hateful little bucket.

Aria steps out from behind me and begins walking away quickly. I go to follow her, but goddamned Napoleon Dynamite over here calls out from behind me.

"Hey! You guys forgot your little rhinoceros!"

I sigh, and turn around, knowing that every second I spend dealing with this lunatic is another step Aria's getting away from me.

I glare at him, inches from his doughy, cratered face. "It's a fucking elephant." I snap, before I snatch the thing out of his hands and storm away.

I weave through crowds and stands, all of the spinning lights and smiling faces a passing blur as I stumble in the direction Aria went. I feel like I'm going to pass out, and the dancing carnival music is like distant, taunting background music, but it's warped and distorted. _Where the hell did she go?_

Then, through a break in the crowd, I see her. She's stomping across the rocks and sand towards the parking lot, head down and hair billowing out behind her, and just like that, I return to reality. I begin sprinting towards her, pushing an old lady out of my way as I go. I hear shouts behind me, but nothing's going to stop me now.

"ARIA!" I call out. "ARIA WAIT. COME BACK. WE CAN TALK ABOUT THIS!" I yell but it's too late. I continue to run towards her, but it's like I'm on a treadmill. She gets further and further away, and I'm still in the same spot.

Then I realize why. Somebody's holding me.

I spin around into the face of a white, burly old surfer man, who's screaming at me furiously and pointing towards an old lady sprawled on the ground. People are surrounding her, and most of them are giving me dirty looks. _How the hell did she get down there?_ I wonder. _And what has that got to do with me?_

Realizing that this guy has no intention of letting me go anytime soon, I do the only thing I know by nature. I punch him in his face.

I hear gasps, and the man's head flies back as he reaches for his nose, blood already spilling down onto his muscle shirt and onto my fist. He clearly wasn't expecting me to hit him, but at this moment I'm not really worried about fighting fair. I turn and begin to run back towards Aria and the parking lot, but she's already in the car and pulling off, leaving me behind in the sinister white glow on the moon.

I stop at the edge of the lot, watching her taillights flicker in the night until I can't see them anymore. I kick at the rocks angrily, shouting into the night sky in Spanish and English and sometimes French even though I don't know French before sitting down on one of the little stone bumpers, exhausted. No one's around, and it's just the moon, and me sharing our silent struggles.

I ask the moon bitterly why I had to go and fuck up so badly. The moon doesn't answer, because I guess she knows I already know the answer. Still, I sit there awhile longer, and at some point I look down and realize I'm still clutching Squishee by the neck.

I drop him to the ground dismally, and now I know I'm going crazy, because I think I see blood stains on his neck where I was holding him. But I know that's impossible, because why would I be bleeding?

* * *

_**Not sure I really liked this chapter but... Remember to Review and Follow! Suggestions greatly appreciated! :D**_

_**Also, check out Whiplash by kcuffykidd96. It's a pll/glee crossover. It's amazing!**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**DISCLAIMER: Sadly, I don't own Glee or Pretty Little Liars (it would be awesome though). I don't own all of the characters but I DO own the majority of this story line.**_

* * *

_**Chapter Seven**_

* * *

_**Aria POV**_

"**You Have 7 new voice messages. Message one..."**

"Aria, it's Santana. Look, I'm sorry okay. Please pick up."

"**To replay this message, press 7. To delete, press 4. To save it in the archives press 9."**

Aria raised an eyebrow and blew the air out of her mouth heavily, fluttering her bangs around her face. _That_ was a no brainer.

"**Message deleted. Message two..."**

"Seriously, Ar. We need to talk. It's been weeks. I don't know what that was on the Ferris wheel but... But I definitely don't regret it. Call me back. Please."

"**Message deleted. Message three..."**

"ARIA! It's Hanna, as if you couldn't tell. I need you to settle something really quick. Mercedes and Emily are obviously delusional. Who has the best man butt? Channing Tatum, right? HOT! Mercedes says Ian Somerhalder from the damn Vampire Journals or whatever the hell it's called. Emily insists that it's that dude from the 'Today show,' Al Roker... I think. Ew, right? No wonder she's gay. I'll be expecting a call! Love you lady -hoe!

Aria chuckled at that one.

"**Message deleted. Message four..."**

"Come on! You kissed me. Not me. You. And furthermore-"

"**Message deleted. Message five..."**

"What are you so afraid of? We kissed. It's not a big deal. Yes it was unexpected. Yes it was amazing. Yes it was completely innocent but at the same time, it was the best damn kiss I think I've ever had. Ever. And I've kissed a lot of people. Seriously. Mono has become stereo in my life. But if you don't want, it doesn't have to mean anything. Just talk to me. _Please_."

"**Message deleted. Message six..."**

"So, not returning calls now? Seriously! We need to know! This is vital information to the world of men's butts, Aria Montgomery! We need an unbiased opinion. Obviously, Emily is out of the running. I mean I've said it before. Ew."

"**Message deleted. Message seven..."**

Hey Sweetie, It's Mom. Just wanted to see how you're settling in. I know this call may seem kind of late but I wanted to let you experience L.A. without me breathing down you're neck. Anyway, I love you. Call me when you get a chance.

"**Message deleted. You have no more new messages. Main Menu..."**

**X**

I lay on my bed, dressed for school but not wanting to go. I want to think and worry and sort everything out in my mind, but my thoughts are too loud for me right now, and all I want is peace. It's been 2 weeks, 1 day, 11 hours, and 35 minutes since the whole ferris wheel incident. Santana has called, texted, stopped by, and has even went out of her way to mail me a letter. I've ignored it all. I mean I've read them all but I've yet to reply. How am I supposed to even reply to something like that? 'Hey, I know it was me who kissed you, ditched you, and been ignoring you for the past few weeks, but I'm totally sorry.'

She probably hates me. Truth be told, I kind of hate me right about now.

What the hell is going on with me? What was I even _thinking_?

Ugh. I really don't have the time for any of this at the moment. I check my watch and damn, only fifteen more minutes 'til class. Class with Santana. Great. This isn't going to be awkward at all.

Who am I kidding...? This is going to be hell. Again. It has been for the past two weeks. I'd walk into English 115, looking at the floor, and stroll right past the seat that Santana has always saved for me. The _desk_, she'd always saved for me.

That short, wood-topped desk, with _S+A = BFF's 4ever_ carved into the corner and traced over in thin tipped Sharpie. I guess maybe I meant that at some point. Hell, I still kind of do. I _want_ us to be best friends again. But it's just not fair to her. Still, even after the hell I've put her through, she still saves that desk for me. I guess I'm just not going to acknowledge it. Her presence must be obliterated from my consciousness. ASAP.

Anyhow, I'm sure today won't be any different.

I wonder just how permanent Sharpie really is.

**X**

I make it down the hall and to the classroom, just in time. I take a deep breath and enter the room, book bag slung over one shoulder and eyes on that ground like I'm expecting to discover he cure for cancer down there. I've actually spent quite a bit of time since "The incident" examining this floor, since anywhere else is crowded with bad thoughts and probing eyes. You'd be surprised how much dirty, scuffed geometrical tile designs can interest someone who is truly desperate for distraction. Did you know that there's a difference between a rhombus floor tile and a trapezoid floor tile?

There is.

Already I can feel her eyes on me. I risk taking a quick glance up and _fuck my life_ our eyes meet. The seat next to her is tauntingly vacant, and her deep brown stare is pleading with me; begging me for forgiveness. I hate that look. I can't understand it. What is there to forgive? I'm the one who messed up.

I turn away from her excruciating gaze, and scan the room. I just sigh, making my way to the usual empty seat, two rows back from the open discussion floor.

"Hey, is this seat taken?" I ask the same question, just like I do every class, and the same dark haired guy in Row 1 turns around, like he does every class, and he shakes his head, like he does every class. "Thanks." I say. I don't really mean it.

I take the seat and pull out my laptop, ready to get lost in Facebook until our elderly English professor hobbles in, 15 minutes late, like he does every class.

Wow, my life has gotten repetitive,

I pause when the guy ahead of me clears his throat, and when I look up, I realize he hasn't turned back around yet. Huh?

"So... um, I'm Brody." He offers me his hand. I take it reluctantly, confused, and smile at him awkwardly. _Why the hell is he speaking to me? _I wonder. _He never speaks to me. Well, aside from our weekly seat ritual. But that's over for today._

"Aria." I say blankly. Santana's eyes are hot on the side of my face.

"Nice to meet you Aria," he says with a smile. "Anyway, not that I'm complaining or anything, but it's not every day a pretty girl asks for the seat next to me, except for these last two weeks..." He looks at me, questioning, asking for permission to continue, and I nod weakly. _Where is he going with this?_ "So I'm sorry for asking, seeing as how we only ever seem to speak once a class, y'know clockwork and all-" There's that smile again. "And I'm all but John Doe to you-"

"Brody Joe." I correct. He smiles. Santana's hot gaze begins to burn through my cheek, and I find myself flipping my hair to block my face from her. Brody seems to find this unintentional movement flirtatious. Fuck me.

"Indeed." He continues with a chuckle. I wasn't trying to be funny. "But um... don't you usually sit with your girlfriend in the back of the room?"

"She's not my girlfriend." I defend quickly, and I have to admit, I'm a little taken back. _Why in the hell would he think Santana was my girlfriend? Oh Lord, was he at the fair!? He probably was. Ugh, somebody kill me nowwww..._

"Oh! Oh, um, I just thought... no, shit. I didn't mean..." He groans like a miserable soul. Tell me about it buddy. "Damn it. Okay, this has just become awkward. I'm sorry." He turns around abruptly, blushing, and I drop my head onto my desk.

_This_ is awkward? Ha.

"Story of my life." I whisper.

The professor finally creeps in, and for a half-deaf old man with a hunchback and a limp, he is way too happy for a Monday morning. "Good morning class!" He shouts enthusiastically. We let out a collective groan. "Yeah, yeah, yeah... I don't want to be here any more than you do guys. You know, golf courses and paintings of fruit to get to." He laughs obscenely loud at that one, and I cringe. He really isn't funny.

With nothing better to do, and killing myself not an option at the moment, I sit up and open my laptop, pulling up a blank word document.

"Alright guys, for the next couple of weeks, we're going to be looking at music, and how it is modern day poetry... because let's face it, no one reads anymore." He drawled as he cued up the PowerPoint. "Okay, so music. Who do you guys like?"

"Tyga." The look of confusion on that poor old man's face is beyond priceless.

"Rebecca Black." Someone else calls out. The class falls into laughter, and the perpetrator who said it slumps in his chair sullenly. Damn. I guess he was serious.

"Ingrid Michaelson."

"Amy Winehouse."

"Britney."

"2Pac."

"Nah man, Biggie."

"What do you mean Biggie?! The fuck outta here with that."

"Fuck you talking to my nigga? You tryna get big?"

"Alright! Alright! The only thing getting... _big_, in here, needs to be the variety in this topic. Come on, let's go. Who else?" The professor shouts, restoring order.

"Gaga."

"Whitney."

"Michael."

"The Turtles."

"Journey."

"Hendrix."

"Tegan and Sara." Santana shouts over the increasingly loud classroom chatter.

"Barbra." Rachel says matter of factly. I look back and Santana rolls her eyes.

"Alright, guys. I like what I'm hearing so far. Pull out your notebooks, tablets, laptops, intelligent phone... whatever. You're about to get educated." _Intelligent phone_? What does that even _mean_? This guy can't be real.

This is really not how I want to start off my day. I can just get the notes later online. Guess I should see what's happening on Facebook. Yeah, that's a good idea.

Going down my wall, there was nothing too exciting or out of the norm. Somehow (Haha, _somehow_. Who are you kidding, Aria old girl?) I end up on Santana's page. Ignoring the flutter I feel in my stomach at the sight of her (Gorgeous) profile picture, I scroll down and check out her timeline. I see a post and I feel my heart fall.

_**Santana LWordLife Lopez**_

_**25 minutes ago**_

"_**I can't believe I've let you in and now here I am... Telling you that I'm suffocating in here. Just like the drugs you are keeping me." T+S**_

_**Quinn Fabray, Puckzilla, Kurt Hummel, and 6 others like this.**_

I scroll down and read over some of the comments.

_**Puckzilla: **__What are you going on about now?_

_**25 minutes ago via mobile**_

_**Santana LWordLife Lopez: **__None of your damn business, Puck. I was just in a Tegan and Sara kind of mood. Also, way to be a creeper. Y'know commenting the second I hit send._

_**24 minutes ago**_

_**Puckzilla: **__Come on, you know you can tell your lesbro anything. My lips are sealed._

_**23 minutes ago via mobile**_

_**Santana LWordLife Lopez: **__So, you _do_ have a vagina. I knew it! lol_

_**23 minutes ago**_

_**Rachel Barbra Berry: **__Noah, it's none of your business! Let Santana be. She will talk when she is good and ready. Santana pay attention! Our professor is talking about Journey!_

_**14 minutes ago**_

_**Puckzilla: **__Chill out, Rach. Like you didn't lern enough about them in glee club. Santana, this week in four words. You. Me. Bar. Booze. _

_**14 minutes ago via mobile**_

_**Rachel Barbra Berry: **__'A' Noah, 'A'! As in LeArn._

_**13 minutes ago**_

_**Puckzilla: **__Wow! Grammer nazi-ing. Way to be mature! I know I am but what are you?_

_**12 minutes ago via mobile**_

_**Rachel Barbra Berry: **__... Grammar, Noah. GrammAr._

_**12 minutes ago**_

_**Puckzilla: **__An 'A'! You're an 'A'!_

_**12 minutes ago via mobile**_

_**Hanna Marin: **__Ass, Ass, Ass, Ass, Ass. Stop! Now make that muthaf***er hammer time._

_**10 minutes ago**_

_**Kurt Hummel:**__ Woooooow, guys. SMH._

_**10 minutes ago**_

_**Hanna Marin: **__Oh don't act like you don't like that song._

_**10 minutes ago**_

_**Kurt Hummel:**__ Never. :P_

_**10 minutes ago**_

_**Hanna Marin: **__LOL_

_**10 minutes ago**_

_**Emily Fields:**__ Hey, Are you all right __**Santana**__? You've been kind of down lately... So has Aria. Did something happen between you two?_

_**8 minutes ago**_

_**Santana LWordLife Lopez: **__No. Yes. It's whatever._

_**7 minutes ago **_

_**Emily Fields:**__ Well, I'm here if you want to talk._

_**7 minutes ago**_

_**Santana LWordLife Lopez:**__ Thanks, Em. :)_

_**5 minutes ago**_

_**Brittany S. Pierce: **__Don't be a sad panda. :(_

_**2 minutes ago**_

_**Santana LWordLife Lopez:**__ I'll try Britt-Britt. :D _

_**Just now**_

My face heats up as I realize this conversation is going on right now, at this very moment. I feel terrible. To know that I caused this kills me inside.

And now there's another pair of eyes on my neck. Damn you, Berry. Maybe I should just talk to her. After class, I'll pull her to the side and we can talk this whole thing out. Haha, not in this lifetime baby. I continue to scroll down.

_**Santana LWordLife Lopez and Devyn Santrivera are now friends. **_

_**October 1**_

_**Artie Abrams, Sam 'Mercedes' Man' Evans and 2 others like this.**_

_**Artie Abrams:**__ If she has a friend, hook me up._

_**October 1 at 3:52am (2 people like this)**_

_**Santana LWordLife Lopez: **__Umm... No._

_**October 1 4:02am via mobile**_

_**Artie Abrams:**__ Mad rude, yo. _

_**October 1 at 4:12am **_

_**Devyn Santrivera: **__Hey! Now we're Facebook official! _

_**October 1 at 4:12am**_

_**Santana LWordLife Lopez:**__ I know, again for helping me get mobilized._

_**October 1 at 4:14am via mobile**_

_**Devyn Santrivera:**__ Totally! It was um... very memorable ;)_

_**October 1at 4:14am**_

_**Puckzilla: **__That's girl on girl code for...?_

_**October 1 at 4:27am**_

_**Caleb Rivers**__: Is this that chick? The one you ditched us for?_

_**October 1 12:43pm via mobile**_

_**Sam 'Mercedes' Man' Evans:**_ _Yerp. She's hot!_

_**October 4 at 5:35pm via mobile (Puckzilla likes this)**_

_**Puckzilla: **__Agreed. She got any hot friends?_

_**October 1 at 5:37pm (2 people like this)**_

_**Mercedes Jones: **_SAMUEL EVANS!

_**October 1 7:34pm (8 people like this)**_

_**Sam 'Mercedes' Man' Evans:**_ Hi Babe! :)

_**October 1 at 8:00pm via mobile**_

_**Santana LWordLife Lopez:**__ Gon' now! Git! Y'all blowing up my notifications. _

_**October 1 at 8:02pm via mobile (3 people like this)**_

I couldn't contain my laughter any longer. My friends are... well, they're pretty damn special. Curious (Yeah, yeah. Add quotation marks there.), I click on Devyn's name and immediately browse her pictures. Yep, just as I suspected. She's hideous. I mean, slim and tall, flowing dark brown hair, big, heavy-lashed grey eyes, and a body to kill for. Who am I kidding? Devyn is gorgeous.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" The professor calls out suddenly with annoyance evident in his voice, and I leave Dreamland Devyn for a moment to check out the classroom. People around the room are quietly laughing. "Miss Lopez, am I boring you?" He asks sarcastically? There's only one Lopez in this small class, so I turn around in Santana's direction. A squeak escapes me at the sight.

Santana is knocked out. Her eyes are closed, head thrown back over the back of her seat, and her arms are hanging freely on each side of the chair she's sitting in. It's reminds me slightly of a sloth on NyQuil.

"SANTANA!" The professor growls loudly, and Santana snaps up in her seat, arms out as she tries to regain her balance, and her eyes are darting around the room in panic. With this, the class bursts out in laughter and Santana's shoulders slump and a scowl crosses her features. Crossing her arms, she mumbles something under her breath as she pulls her laptop closer to herself.

"Good, now that you're awake, would you like to enlighten the class on music of Bob Dylan?" The professor asks Santana directly.

He is met with a look of pure evil. "Um...," she scans her computer screen, "not really. Wasn't really paying attention, if you didn't noticed?" _Didn't_ noticed? Damn Lopez. Might as well start singing 'A Boy Like That'. "I mean once Berry started fapping to Barbra, ya lost me." Santana continues, and the professor taps his foot impatiently, waiting for Santana's response. All eyes fall on San, wondering if she would continue being disrespectful, or man up and answer the question. "Alright, fine. Bob?" The professor nods for San to continue. I sigh in relief.

"Well... here's how the cookie crumbles," Santana gives the class a mischievous smirk, and I mentally groan. "Robert Dylan was- I mean, Bobby Dylan was um- or, uh, _Bob_, we um... go way back. He was a musical genius. He smoked a little po-," She catches her slip, "I mean _marijuana_." She points and winks at the professor, and the class chuckles. "Some people like when he'd wiggle those boney ass hips and sing 'One Love'. Well except me, I'm an avid lady lover and I like it when girls-. Wait! No! Hip wiggler was Elvis. My bad. He-."

"Alright, that will be enough." The professor stops her. He walks to the podium and begins packing up his things. "Now that we've been so tastefully enlightened on the lives of some curious combination of Bob Marley and Elvis-."

"Wanky." Santana smirks at the professor's glare and I can't help the giant smile that finds its way to my face. I look back towards Santana and she smiles at me, adding her signature wink and I all but melt.

Maybe she doesn't hate me.

"_Anyway_, as I was saying: now that we've been enlightened, I'll see you all next class." He hobbles on out and I begin to pack up quickly in hopes of getting out of here before I'm forced to talk to Santana. Just as I'm about to take off, a hand on my shoulder stops me.

"Aria." thankfully it was only Brody, "Hey, again, haha... um, I was wondering... since you're clearly all, straight and whatnot, if I could maybe have... your number?" I look at him, and shock had to be evident on my face because that's exactly what I was feeling. I look over his shoulder, and who else but Santana LWordLife Lopez, in the flesh, is standing there. Pissed.

He pulls out his phone and hands it to me, and I have no clue why (Maybe I enjoy ripping my organs out slowly?), but I find myself punching in my number. "Cool, I'll text you later that way you have mine." Brody swings his backpack over his shoulder and I watch as he makes his way to the door. "Nice meeting you Aria."

"Yeah, you too." I smile. Now's my chance, Santana and I are alone. I can finally apologize. Granted it's two weeks too late and I just gave my number to a guy in front of her, but I can't keep doing this to her. I can't keep her in the dark. I close my eyes. I can totally do this. I stand with my back to her, facing the door that Brody left through, "Santana," I exhale deeply, and Santana doesn't say anything. "Santana, I know it's probably too late, and you probably never want to speak to me again, but I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I lunged myself at you and attacked you with my lips when we were a billion feet in the air. I'm sorry I freaked out afterwards and made you feel like the kiss was like the most awful thing I've ever experienced. It wasn't. I'm sorry I left you on the pier. I'm sorry it's been two weeks. I'm sorry I made our friendship awkward. Sharpie's actually only permanent for up to 16 washings, 7 on skin, 3 with bleach. I know that now, and I'm sorry."

Silence.

I turn around to face her, to beg her, to plead and cry... I don't know. I just need to make her _say _something. With a deep, steadying breath, I open my eyes.

I'm met with an empty room.

**X**

I sulk the whole way back to the apartment. I put the key in the door and pause, because I can hear music and laughter, and that's most definitely not what I'm in the mood for right now. With a sigh, I turn the key, push open the door, and find a bunch of people crowded around the TV.

"Hey Ar!" Emily calls from the living room.

"Hey guys." I smile and sit on the arm of the couch next to Emily. I drop my bag beside me and slump down into the cushion so that my head is rested on Emily's thigh and my feet are dangling over the arm. Emily offers me a sad smile and begins to run her fingers through my hair.

"Are you okay?" She asks quietly.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"You've been cooped up in the house for weeks. You've been different." She focuses on the TV, entranced briefly by Mortal Kombat. _Artie is totally kicking Sam's ass right now by the way. _

"Em?" I grab her attention and she continues.

"Anyway, I can only assume that it has something to do with you and Santana. She's been the same way for the past couple of weeks too. Totally not herself at all. She's been moody, distant, and have I mentioned moody?" I stare at her in disbelief. I mean I knew San was acting differently; Quinn and Brittany would bring it up all the time, but wow. Emily nods, "Seriously, yesterday she flipped out on Puck because he put the toilet seat down."

"Down?" I ask, confused.

"D.O.W.N." She spells out. "Down. So tell me what happened?"

"Nothing happened. We've just been busy is all..." I lie.

"Yeah, busy avoiding each other." Sam chimes in. "Tonight is 'bro night', and if this week is anything like last, she'll end up getting drunk, crying, and then taking home the hottest chick in the club."

"Hottest chick?" Mercedes questions with a sullen look and I can't tell if she's serious or not.

"Yeah, last week she took this chick home. She was hot. Sun kissed skin, long legs, short skirt, Nice set of headlights if you know what I mean, and a tattoo of a trident above her ass..." Artie trails off, completely forgetting about the game and trying to stop his character from getting its ass handed to him by Sam. "What was her name again?"

"Um... I don't know. It started with an 'D.'" "Demi? No. Dana? No. Daphne? No. Dalia? No. Danny? No. Delilah!" Sam shouts out a bunch of random names. He stops and turns to me with a smile. "Yeah, Delilah... I think."

"Devyn." I say dryly.

"Devyn!" He shouts. "That's it!"

"Devyn was fierce, Yo." Artie quips.

"Yeah, I guess, but Dude, her bike was awesome!." Caleb says through a chuckle and Hanna joins in. _Sam sucks at this game so bad._ "Seriously, I wonder how much money she put into that thing. It's like a ninja on the road. She's helping San out with her bike too."

"Santana has a bike?" I asked. I cannot picture Santana on a motorcycle. Like, at all.

"Yeah, an all black Kawasaki Ninja 250r. It's sick." Caleb adds. "I'm glad Santana knew her prior though. Girl's pick up lines could use some work. She walked up to Santana, leaned her body against her, and was like, "Did you clean your pants with Windex? I can practically see myself in them," AND. IT. WORKED. Santana ended up ditching us early. Come to find out... they were pretty um... vocal." _Well, thanks for that Caleb._

"Vocal?" I try my best to keep emotion out of my voice. "That's nice."

GAHH! That whole day was my fault. Everything about that day, I initiated it. I stare blankly at the bookshelves aligned along the walls. I can see Hanna's mouth moving and her eyes scanning my face with worry but I hear nothing. Hanna stands, waving her hand in my face. It's not until she pokes me in the middle of my forehead that I shoot her a playful glare, silently thanking her for knowing me so well, and a sheepish smile graces her tanned cheeks. "So, is that a yes?."

_Wait, what?_ I blink animatedly.

"Please?" Mercedes pleads. "It's been forever since I've seen you smile."

"And? So."

"And it's not like you. Not like California you." I shrug, so Hanna continues, "You and Santana were inseparable from day one. We practically had to force you to away from each other. Now, out of the blue, you guys aren't annoyingly texting each other at all hours of the night, having week long sleepovers, hell I haven't seen you over at her place since you guys stopped acknowledging each others existence."

"We've never had week long sleep overs." I counter.

After a long silence, Emily lets out a loud gasp. Her mouth drops open and her brow knits as if she just come to a realization. "She didn't hurt you did she? Make you feel uncomfortable in anyway?"

"What?" I ask in disbelief. "No! She'd never!" I argue, getting angry all of a sudden.

Hanna shot up from Caleb's lap, blue eyes sparkling, and the happiest smile I've seen on her face since Caleb had told her he was moving to L.A. so that they could be together (and so he'd be closer to his mom). "I got it!" She yells. "Let's drop this mope fest and paint the town red." It's official Hanna has lost it. "Seriously, I want to dance. You," she points to Cedes, "Are too hot to be sitting in the house watching your boyfriend play videogames, as am I. You," she points to Emily, "Need to loosen up a bit. All work and no play turns Emily into a Spencer. And the _both_ of you," she gestures to me and Emily, "need to get drunk, laid, and dirty dance with a bunch of sweaty strangers... or poles. Depends on how drunk we get."

"It's Monday." Emily deadpans.

"And?"

"It's Monday." I reiterate.

"Whatever, get your sexy asses up and get ready, we're going out. Emily, let the others know." She shrieks and begins to dance. "This is going to be so fun! Be ready by 9:30 sharp." Hanna and Mercedes run out of the room strategizing outfits.

"It's only 2 o'clock!" I yell after her but she ignores me.

Emily taps my shoulder signaling me to sit up. "Well, guess we're going out."

"Guess we are." I frown.

"ARIA?!" Hanna yells from her bedroom. "Wear something sexy. Something not... well, you remember how you dressed in high school."

Emily leaves the room laughing.

"Cali is for Titties and Mini's!" Hanna calls.

I chuckle and throw myself back onto the couch, picking up a spare controller. Guess I'll just stay in for the rest of the day. Maybe show these guys how a real 'man' plays Mortal Kombat.

Out of nowhere, my phone starts buzzing like crazy. With a sigh, I hit pause and pick it, wondering what anyone could possible want from me right now. As soon as I read the ominous screen though, my mind starts to tick, realizing all of the different possibilities three words could hold.

**ONE TEXT MESSAGE**.

* * *

**A/N:**

**[Cue dramatic music] **

Grrr, this chapter. But it's been 1 week, 3 days, 7 hours, and 35 seconds since my last update. Haha. Kidding but it has been long over due. I wanted to kick something out for you guys really quick.

So, here is that. I want to get chapter 8 out this week too. There are many reasons for this decision. The biggest one being that Aria can only avoid San for so long y'know. Same building. Same friends. They can't avoid each other forever.

One word for chapter 8... okay, I can't describe it in one word BUT let's just say that things are going to get interesting.

**X**

**SPECIAL SHOUT OUTS TO A COUPLE OF PEOPLE! **

**Kcuffykidd96**, Thank you! You da, you da best. (*Drake voice*).

**LazyWriterGirl**, loved, loved, loved, LOVED your review. Glad you like Santaria. Hoping to have them interact more in the next couple of chapters. I hate that they're not talking. As for Squishee (the elephant), when Santana punched the guy in the face, dude's blood got like everywhere.

**X**

**ALSO...**

** Don't forget to read _**Whiplash**_, a pll/glee crossover, by the very talented _**kcuffykidd96**_

** Don't forget to review, follow, and all that good stuff. XD

** Let me know what you guys think?

** Let me know what you guys want to see happen?

** How do you feel about Brody?

** How do you feel about Devyn?

**Come on, let's get a dialogue going on. 3... 2... 1... Q&A session! GO! (maybe?)**


	8. Chapter 8

_**DISCLAIMER: Sadly, I don't own Glee or Pretty Little Liars (it would be awesome though). I don't own all of the characters but I DO own the majority of this story line.**_

_**A/N: **_**So this isn't much but... yeah. Honestly, I ran into a brick wall named, Writer's Block. That bitch held me back. Haha. Still, I know what I want to happen and where I want this to go but writing it is killing me. There is good news though, kinda. After next week finals are over, the semester is over, and since I lost my job (totally not my fault by the way), I will have time to update regularly... well until I find a new job. BUT we'll cross that bridge when we get there.**

* * *

_**Chapter Eight**_

* * *

_**Santana POV**_

20 minutes have gone by and she still hasn't replied. 20 freakin' minutes. This is beyond frustrating, and it's honestly starting to get a little annoying, because we need to talk and I don't have time for these games. I mean, here I am, giving half a fuck about something for the first time in my life, and she doesn't even have the decency to acknowledge my effort. I need to get all of this madness off of my chest because it's driving me crazy. Usually I wouldn't even bother, because caring about things is definitely not Santana Lopez's MO, but this is a little different. I'm willing to make exceptions.

But she's really not making it any easier. It's been too long since we've actually spoken to each other, and after today in class, with the smile, and the number exchange, and Donkey Face's failed macking attempt... Well, it hit me in the gut. Hard. These past weeks have been rough.

Like, Finn's elbows type rough.

**Incoming: Devyn S. (2:54 pm)**

Hey. What's the emer.?

Oh, well _fuck_. Finally.

**To: Devyn S. (2:55 pm)**

Nothing. Just...

**Incoming: Devyn S. (2:57 pm)**

Just...?

**To: Devyn S. (2:59 pm)**

Something went down today in class and...

**Incoming: Devyn S. (3:02 pm)**

And... Look, this whole suspense texting thing you got going on right now isn't dramatic. It's time consuming. Spit it out already. Haha

**To: Devyn S. (3:05 pm)**

STFU! This is hard for me, okay! The whole 'feelings' thing. If I didn't already embarrass myself in front of you the night we met, this conversation wouldn't even be happening right now.

**Incoming: Devyn S. (3:06 pm)**

Damn. I was only kidding. Chill.

And FYI: I Just thought you were hot and asked you to dance. YOU were the one who got drunk, slobbered down my cleavage, and rambled on about a girl that I didn't know. LOL

**To: Devyn S. (3:06 pm)**

Hahaha. Laugh at my pain. Just get your fine ass over here so we can get drunk and watch Cartoon Network or something.

**Incoming: Devyn S. (3:09 pm)**

Can't I'm working right now.

**To: Devyn S. (3:09 pm)**

What?

**Incoming: Devyn S. (3:10 pm)**

Working. Now.

**To: Devyn S. (3:10 pm)**

Well then I'll come to you. See you in 20.

**Incoming: Devyn S. (3:10 pm)**

K. :)

I slide my phone into my backpack, and I find myself laughing dryly under my breath. The irony of this is just all too much. With a sigh I grab my wallet off the night stand and head out through the living room. Rachel's sitting on the couch chewing on a Vegan Sloppy Joe, and I don't even want to know where it came from.

"WON OM!?" She smiled invitingly through her mouthful of... let's just say _soy,_ to make me feel better, and held the sandwich out. I just shuddered. Apparently anything can be made into vegan nowadays.

I shake my head quickly and head to the door. "I'm heading out. Don't wait up."

"Wait up..." she whines. "It's only 3 o'clock. Besides, I have better things to do than wait for your-" she pauses for what feels like an exact minute, "-ass. For lack of a better word."

A gasp escapes me, "Did Rachel Berry just say the terrible horrible "_A Word"_? And willingly? Damn. Los Angeles has turned you into a badass."

"I guess so, huh?" She chuckles, completely missing my sarcasm, and actually looks thoughtful as she takes another bite out of her "burger".

"No." I shake my head and she frowns. " Nice footie Pajamas though, by the way." I point out. "The gold stars really bring out the color in your eyes."

"Really!?" She looks down with a huge smile beams up at me excitedly.

"No." I say, and open the door.

I hear an annoyed sigh behind me, and Rachel calls out the door after me "So am I allowed to ask where you're going?"

"Out."

I slam the door behind me and remind myself to buy her a bear or something later.

X

I pull up on my bike and pause, taking in the square, dark-bricked building in front of me before cutting the engine. Nestled comfortably between a deli and a Rite Aid, _Devyn's Salon _is slowly becoming familiar to me, with its white, country style door and the fancy red letters swirling across the wide, single-paned window. I don't even know why I'm here. I've only known this chick for a week at most and I've already basically spilled out my life story to her. (Btw, I blame Aria **entirely** for this new, emotional, me.) What was supposed to be a one-night stand turned into my drunken ass taking home this super hot chick, getting her in my bed, annnnd then crying on her shoulder about a girl who will probably never be interested in me... because I'm equipped with a 'V'. Talk about sad.

Talk about a hot and magical night. Not.

Anyway, here I am, a week and a half later, outside of said stranger's hair salon. I walk in, the woman at the front desk greets me by name, and I give a small nod of acknowledgement before my brain catches up with my actions. _How the hell does she know my name?_ _I've been here a couple of times... but I've never even seen this chick. At least I don't think..._

I don't have time to fully process this interaction because Devyn appears from the back room, stirring a bowl of something. She waves me over and I awkwardly smile at the receptionist before I saunter over to Dev's station.

"Sup, nerd." She greets with a coy smile.

"Hey, dork."

"So what was so important that I had to stop mid-haircut, shape-up actually, and text you back? Because no lie, I thought we were going to hang out later. I figured we'd talk then." She continues to stir what I can only assume to be hair dye. "By the way, this is Shelley. Don't be a bitch, say 'Hi'."

My eyes travel downward and there, right in front of me is a woman who I don't remember seeing when I walked in. She's older: about mid 50s. She's dressed in sweats and a tank top, which is rare for a person visiting a hair salon in Beverly Hills. She reminds me of a friendlier-looking Coach Sue, but whatever. The two of us stare at each other in an uncomfortable silence for a while until finally Shelly puts her hand out.

"Hi, I'm Shelley."

"Satan. Nice to meet you." Devyn slaps my arm playfully and shakes her head.

"Don't mind her, Shelley. She hasn't been fed in awhile. She gets like this." Devyn turns around to her counter, and I take the moment to study her, wondering whether she was just being sarcastic, or if she actually knew me that well already.

"So, you." Dev turns back and points at me with the comb in her hand, and I jump guiltily, hoping she hadn't seen me staring. "You texted me, all hot and bothered, but once you get here you say nothing. What's that about? I know you didn't drive all the way down here to watch me color someone's hair," she pauses and looks like she's thinking before she gasps dramatically and claps a hand to her heart, "Unless you did! Which in many cases would be highly creepy but... because it's you, I'll take what I can get." She sticks out her tongue and chuckles.

"Don't flatter yourself. I'm taken, kind of, or... I want to be, but she's straight and even though she kissed me, there is no way in hell she'd ever go 'gay for Tana.'" I trail off. Why am I babbling? Ask God.

"Gay for Tana? Wha-? Wait, um... are you still on Aria? Cuz, honestly San..." She looks up quickly shakes her head pityingly. I look down to Shelley, who has no idea as to what the hell we're talking about, and she's shaking her head at me too.

What does she mean, 'Are you still on Aria'? Of course I'm still on Aria. IT'S ARIA! For crying out loud, people. I'd be an idiot if I gave up on her that easily... and damn, I've never felt this little and pathetic in my life.

"Hey? Shelley? I like you, I really do, you're cool for an old woman." Shelley smiles at that. "But... don't give me that look. Don't try to sympathize. This is hard for me, okay! And I don't know how I feel about you," I angrily toss my hand in Devyn's general direction, "telling everyone about my misfortunes." I pout and grab my phone to pretend to busy myself, leaning against Devyn's counter space.

"Uh-Uh you, move your butt off my space." I glance at her sarcastically and open and close my fingers in a quacking duck motion_._ "_Unless_, you want Platinum Purple Pixie all over your jeans." Dev taps my arm and that gets me moving. I jump off the counter like a hot pastele. After thoroughly checking my jeans, I try to nonchalantly move over and lean against the wall, but my mojo is gone and I glare at the brunette angrily.

Shelley, momentarily forgotten, speaks out of nowhere. "Girl likes girl. Girl gets kissed by girl. Girl likes it a lot. Other girl freaks out. Other girl also happens to be straight. Now, girl can't get in contact with girl so she's sad and miserable. She goes to bar, gets drunk, finds another girl, tries to fuck the pain away-."

"Shelley!" Devyn and I yell at the same time, and I move my stare at Devyn in disbelief. How could she do that? My life happenings do not constitute as 'hot' small talk gossip topics! Shelley just shrugs and resumes flipping through her Seventeen Magazine. _What is_ with_ this lady?_

Within a minute, Shelley resumes talking as though she'd never been interrupted. "As I was saying, finds another girl to fuck the pain away. Now, here girl is a little over a week later... and she's still bitching about it. If you want her, fight for her. Sexuality is fluid AND if girlie kissed you," she gives me the up, down. Usually I would totally reciprocate her actions but she's like 50 and... Yeah. "She totally wants... how would my granddaughter say it?" She pauses to think.

"Me?" I try to add but she shushes me.

"She totally wants the 'D'." she finishes with a smile and there's a beat before Devyn and I lose it. Immediately, we're hunched over laughing. I'm crouched down clutching my face and convulsing, and Devyn is actually shrieking, with her dye stick thrown back away from her body, dye mix splattered across her mirror. Shelley just tuts and fidgets uncomfortably.

"The D?!" Devyn shrieks, wiping at her eyes and trying (key word: trying) to suppress her laughter, "And what exactly is _'The D'_?" She uses finger quotes and Shelley playfully nudges her.

Once we've both quieted and composed ourselves, Shelley continues. "Well, duh, sweetheart. She wants..." Shelley looks around before leaning closer and whispering conspiratorially. "The _Dandelion_." She straightens up and feigns an innocent old woman just so happening to be sitting there. "I'm not sure what exactly that means," She continues in a normal voice, "but I can't keep up with you kids nowadays."

She's dead serious so we dare not laugh. We just smile and nod, and once Shelley returns to her magazine, my shoulders begin shaking violently in silent laughter. Devyn looks up in amusement and shakes her head at me with wide, pleading eyes, a contained grin barely held on her face. Finally, I choke out an "excuse me" and quickly walk out the front door, down the pavement, and to the parking lot where I slide down behind me bike to the asphalt and absolutely howl with laughter. I try to keep it quiet, because I know the store isn't that far away, not to mention the passerby staring at me like I'm an escaped lunatic.

Finally, I settle myself down and sit there for a moment, hugging my shoulders like a real lunatic and looking at the sky, thinking about our dear friend Shelley. After a few minutes I decide myself "composed" enough to return to civilization, and so I stand, brushing the gravel from my jeans, and return to the salon. Once inside I nod at the receptionist again in passing as I return to Devyn's station, and meet her questioning look with a reassuring one. I lean back against the wall and begin reading Fanfiction, Shelley reads her magazine, and Dev wraps short bits of hair in tin foil.

Silence.

"She's right you know." Devyn speaks up, and I am so grateful because I've had enough of this awkward. I don't even know this lady. Like, seriously. "Nothing in life comes easy, so you have to fight for what you want. If you want her, then go get her." The lady at the front desk (_Karen_, I've learned) the front desk called Devyn's name, and she patted Shelley on the shoulder and said something to her before untying her apron. "Keep it cool though. Don't be all 'Fatal Attraction' like." Then, over her shoulder, "Just give her the goddamned dandelion!" Bitch.

"Kinda hard to do when you have a Poppycock!" I yell after her, but the intended humor is redirected to the irony of that one. _Of all flowers you could have chosen that start with P Santana..._ I scold myself.

Questioning eyes from other shop patrons make their way to our little corner in the back. I glare in their direction, and they go back to what they were doing before Dev, so graciously, publicized my business. For the second time.

Shelley however, is on another tangent entirely. "The poppycock...?" She muses. "The dandelion is the D... So the poppycock would be...?"

"The P." I conclude with a sigh and a nod, confirming her suspicions. "The P and the D. They tend to go together."

She nods in agreement and flips a page in her magazine. Our conversation seems to have been completely forgotten, and she now appears totally invested in whatever she's reading. Looking over her shoulder, I read _"He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not. The Crush Quiz"._ And I thought I'd see everything,

Devyn returns and brushes my arm as she passes jokingly, and smiles at me teasingly. Our trio, typically, falls into another silence, but this time it's more comfortable. Until of course, Shelley- presumably having had finished whatever quiz she was taking looks up with bright blue eyes and smiles at me heartily. "So, what's she like? Tell me about her." I smile like a complete dork. Just thinking about Aria makes me all giddy.

"Well, Her names Aria." I begin, and Shelley nods encouragingly. Dev just shakes her head in exasperation as though she's heard all of this before. Actually, she has. "She's my friends' roommate. She and her friends moved from Pennsylvania: Population 7, or at least that's what she says. She's amazing, completely amazing. She's short, no taller than a parking meter." I raise my hand to about waist level and Shelley laughs. "She's artsy, loves photography and painting. She's funny as hell. I can't tell you how many times she's been there for me. Ummm... She's a complete and utter nerd. Thursday's- also known as 'thirsty Thursday, to us young people- are supposed to be filled with parties and drinking, but Aria would rather stay home, curled up in a Snuggie with a pint of Hagan Daäs, watching One Tree Hill, or any TV show really."

"Sounds special." Shelley says, and Dev mimics puking, but it's playful, and I'm relieved. I need her to be on my side with this one.

"Like I've said, she's amazing. Not to mention really hot. Like really, really hot. And smart! She's all about literature and what not. Total catch." I could go on for days, and Shelley seems prepared to listen, but suddenly Devyn claps her hands.

"Alright Shelley, you're all set." Dev says as she pulls the styling cape from around her shoulders. "I'll ring you up at the front desk." As Shelley begins peering into the mirror, oohing and aahing over her new, considerably brighter, hairstyle, she turns to me and points, "You, my friend: We will talk about this when I get back." I nod, say goodbye to Shelley and pull out my phone.

**One new text message.**

**Incoming: Emily (4:21pm)**

Hey. A bunch of us are going out tonight... Wanted to know if you would join?

**To: Emily (4:43pm)**

It's Monday...

**Incoming: Emily (4:43pm)**

I know. Lol.

I don't even have to ask, really, but I do.

**To: Emily (4:44pm)**

Hanna?

**Incoming: Emily (4:45pm)**

Haha, yep. Entirely our darling Hanna's idea. So you in?

I don't know if going out would be the greatest idea right now, especially after last time. Not that last time ended badly (I mean, I made a new friend and all) but my luck is bound to run out soon. Let's see, first night here I got into a fist fight, with a man, kicked his ass, went to jail, and the next day I made a friend, Aria.

The second time, I kissed said friend, lost her (kinda), went to the bar with Puck and the gang for 'bro night', got fucked up, took home a hot chick, cried on her shoulder for hours, and when I say hours, I literally mean hours, and all of that led me here.

So, what the fuck am I thinking?

Apparently, I'm not.

**To: Emily (4:48pm)**

Hell yeah. I'm in.

**Incoming: Emily (4:50pm)**

Yes! I'll let everyone know.

**To: Emily (4:51pm)**

K. :)

"Earth to Santana!" A voice shouts, breaking through my concentration, and I see a hand waving crazily in front of my face. "Where'd you go? I've been trying to get your attention for like 5 minutes." _Really?_

"Sorry." I look down to my phone still not knowing if this was my best idea, but not really giving too many fucks either. "What are you doing tonight?" I suddenly look back to Devyn.

She actually has the decency to appear surprised. "Ummm, Going home, putting on my comfiest sweats and taking my ass to bed. I was up early this morning and want nothing more than to cuddle with my body pillow."

"Lame." She swats my knee and I laugh. "Seriously though, come out with me tonight?"

"You asking me out, Lopez?" She eyes me up and down in mock appraisal, "Because I ain't no two dolla hoe." She adds in a horrible Jersey accent.

"Calm your tits, JWOWW. A bunch of my friends are going out, and since you obviously have no plans tonight you should come with us. You could meet some of my friends, have a drink or two, dance slutty with strangers, and then listen to them cry on your shoulders for hours." She laughs and I join in with more confidence than I actually feel. _What the fuck am I doing?_

"Okay, three things..." she begins, and holds up a hand with three fingers raised so she can tick them off. "First of all, I do have plans and those plans involve sweats, TiVo, and my best friend: Nutella. Secondly, I met your friends and they're weird. They wouldn't stop staring, and that one... with the reindeer sweater..."

"Ber- I mean, Rachel." I help.

"yep, that one. She asked me something about some bitch named... Fanny Price, or something. Who the hell's Fanny Price?" I have to laugh at that one. Damn Berry. She'll never change. "Lastly-," She pauses, and I wait. "Well there really isn't a third point I can come up with right now, but you get what I'm trying to say."

"Oh yeah, I get you." I say, and her eyebrow rises. "But what I just can't understand is how can some one so hot, be so damn _lame_." Devyn rolls her eyes and turns away to begin cleaning up her station. Maybe she just needs a little motivation... _Hello? Hello in there? Santana? What in THE FUCK are you doing here? You_ _remember what happened last time. You're blowing it San. BLOWING IT!_ "How about this." I propose. "_You_ trade out your sweats for a dress and heels, and _I'll _buy you drinks. All night. No limit."

"Yeah?" She asks and turns around, crossing her arms and eyeing me with a suspicious smile as she leans back against her counter.

"Yeah." She hesitates, and I play that to my advantage, giving her full-on Santana puppy dog eyes. Trust me: They're irresistible. Just ask, well, anybody.

Finally, she caves. "Alright, okay, fine. I'm in." She shakes her head at my victory dance and returns to sweeping the floor beneath her chair, now littered with bits of Shelley's hair. " But I'm crashing at your place afterwards." She adds. "It's central to like, all of the good bars and clubs. My place is too far for me to be commuting on my struggle bike." I immediately pull out my phone and correct my last text, telling Emily that _we_ are in. She replies right away asking what I mean by 'we.' I tell her that Devyn is tagging along, and she says that she's excited to finally meet 'Devyn, the hot chick that all of my guy friends won't shut up about.' I just grin and slip my phone back into my pocket.

Maybe I could hook them up? Emily _is_ single after all, and although she hasn't said anything, to me at least, I'm pretty sure that she's an avid lady lover, much like myself. Also, Dev's hot and those corny Pokemon pick up lines obviously aren't working for her, or any pick up lines for that matter, because she's single too. Hmm...? I mean, I could butt out and mind my business, but what would be the fun in that?

The only problem is... Aria is probably going to be there. I don't even think I'll know how to act around her. Today changed everything. Today, in class, was the first time she's even held eye contact with me for more than 5 seconds. Call me lame or whatever but seeing her laugh and smile, even if it was at my expense, was worth it. It was the best part of my day.

But then, of course, the moment was ruined when she completely ignored me for someone else. That_ someone_ being Plastic Man in the front of the class didn't help. I don't know him but I already know that I do not- I repeat: do **not**- like him at all. Especially since he was flirting with my girl. With his little laminated, white-toothed smile, perfectly styled hair, and clothes that are made for a damn Abercrombie model and fit his stone carved body as such. He's like a walking Botox injection.

I hate him.

The most awkward part about the whole thing, besides my reinterpretation of Bob Dylan, of course, was that after class ended, Donkey Botox Face pulled Aria aside to "talk". Something took over me and I couldn't control it.

Ugh, I'll admit it: Jealousy.

I left before I did or said something that I would regret; I had to. I didn't go too far though, because something about that dude is off, I can feel it. So, I waited outside of the classroom until he left. I'll be damned if I leave Aria alone with some random dude who's basically a living recreation of Bronze David with the mentality of- in my opinion- Leather face from Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Once he was gone, I was about to leave. I really, truly, honest-to-God had no other intention other than to walk out that door and to my bike and drive straight into the back of the nearest U-Haul, but then I heard Aria. I heard her apologizing, and I'm assuming she thought I was still in the room, because she basically bared her soul about the whole situation and it broke my cold, numb heart.

I like her. I like her A LOT. Not that it matters now, but I do.

"So is Aria, going out tonight?" Devyn inquires as she cleans up her station.

"I don't know. Maybe. It's whatever though." I shrug and crouch down with the dust pan so she can sweep the hair into it.

"Perfect." She smiles. I know that smile. I do that smile. She's plotting something and I can tell by the twitch on the left side of her mouth that I'm probably not going to like it.

"Perfect, how? It's going to be awful." I sigh and go to stand up. I grab my jacket and my helmet and look to Dev expectantly.

She stands also, and steps uncomfortably close to me, only inches away and smiling into my face, but I dare not back away now. She's toying with me. I can feel it in my Mexican Third Eye. "I have a plan."

"Oh do you now?" I try to muster the same mysterious, seductive aura she's carrying, but I can't. I'm just tired.

"Yes, a plan. Don't doubt my genius. You said that Aria kissed you, right?" I nod. "Good, that's all I needed to know."

What the hell is Devyn talking about? She's speaking in these damn cryptic sentences and I'm lost. She puts the broom away and begins to gather her things as well.

"Thanks for the help, by the way." She gestures to the dust pan, and I hastily pour it into the trash can and hand it to her. "I think you're going to enjoy yourself tonight."

"Dev, tell me what the hell is going through that crazy, gigantic, Jimmy Neutron sized head of yours." My smirk falters when she doesn't react to my comment. I thought she'd at least push me a little for making fun of her, like Aria always does, but she's not Aria, and she does nothing.

"Operation make Aria jealous is in full motion." She blows me a kiss, and before I can even reply, she's out the door. I just stand there, left in the haze of her dark, intoxicating perfume, so different from Aria's light, summery fragrance, and I can only think two words, numbly.

_Wait, what?_

* * *

**A/N: Thank you so much for reading this and sticking with me. You guys are what keep me motivated to kick out these chapters. Much love to you all! **

**Quick Shout out to my unofficial Beta, you all should know who she is by now. If not, it's **_**kcuffykidd96.**_** I dig her swag. **

**Also, I love reading questions, comments, and concerns (I'm just weird like that). If you like something, tell me. If you don't like something, tell me. If you want to see something happen in this fic (because let's face it, it's your fic too), tell me.**

**Next chapter, things get a little more interesting because I don't know about you, but I wants Santaria to happen and I wants it to happen now (*Santana voice*). I've never been one for patience. Yeah, it's a virtue or whatever but who needs those anyway? And another thing, would you guys be interested in maybe some other character's point of views in this story?**

**Holla at yo girl, **

**Syn92**

**P.S. Remember to review and follow. Also, if you want spoilers and stuff for W2AS (Whisper to a Scream), or if you just want to chat or whatever, follow me on twitter ( synful92)... but don't be surprised if I post a lot about Glee, Pretty Little Liars, how fat my ass looks in my jeans (*tears*), or Naya Rivera.**


	9. Chapter 9

_**DISCLAIMER: Sadly, I don't own Glee or Pretty Little Liars (it would be awesome though). I don't own all of the characters but I DO own the majority of this story line.**_

_Dearest kcuffykidd96, you are one dope ass beta. Love, Syn92_

* * *

_**Chapter Nine**_

* * *

_**Aria POV**_

So here I am, against my will, and standing outside of a club, in the skimpiest outfit known to man (Thanks, Hanna). Not only am I practically naked, but it's also nearing the end of October and the weather has dropped significantly. The only thing I am thankful for right now is the fact that I was able to fit a strapless bra underneath this fabric, because let's face it, this dress in no bigger than a bandana and no one wants to see my nipples trying to break through the fabric.

"Hey, you okay?" Brody asks as he shrugs off his hoodie and drapes in over my shoulders and in turn taking me under his arm. I give him a grateful smile and mumble out a 'thank you' before I slowly squirm from under his arm. "I'll be right back, I'm going to go see what's the hold up "

The line hasn't moved. We've probably been out here waiting for an hour. It wouldn't have bothered me so much if it weren't for the other half naked women who have been cutting the line and strutting through the black velvet ropes like the Sea hath parted for Moses all night, but it's really a buzz kill.

"Who the hell is that guy?" Hanna fixes her dress, trying to act nonchalant, but she was obviously annoyed. "Like serious, he's killing my vibe. I'm sure if he weren't here, we'd be able to slide right in."

"Wanky." I chime in, laughing to myself only to kill it quickly when flashes of Santana laughing along, like she had so many times before, take over my brain. Hanna just rolls her eyes. "And to answer your question, his name is Brody. He's in my poetry class.

"And he's here why?"

"Hanna! Be nice." I beg.

"I am being nice. I just want to know if WE like him or not and right now, for me at least, it's a not. I'm cold, and my feet are killing me," She motions to her feet, "These are only 2 hour shoes, Aria."

"Well, maybe you should of thought of that before you wore them to the club." I stick my tongue out at her and she playfully does the same. "And Brody's alright. I guess. I mean I only really talked to him today. Well, kind of." Hanna gives me an incredulous look, and I just roll my eyes and cross my arms defensively. "What?"

Hanna just rolls her eyes back at me in annoyance and checks her phone screen, groaning at the time. Turning toward the bouncer, she throws up her hands and stabs dramatically at her watch. "We've been waiting for hours, and these shoes are destroying my pedicure! Let us in, ya big lug!" The bouncer just shrugs and points at the clipboard in his hand, then crosses his big beefy arms. He even has the nerve to shake his head sadly and mock our misery with a smile.

With a whine of frustration, Hanna huffily turns back to me and slumps against the wall. Seeming to remember my existence in the world Hanna returns to our conversation. "Well?"

"Um, yes?" I reply. The question is long forgotten.

Hanna just shakes her head in exasperation. "Why is Botox here?

"Hanna." I reprimand.

"What?"

"You're starting to sound like Santana. Stop." I grit my teeth and try not to think much deeper into that particular train of thought. That's _definitely_ not what I need right now.

"Fine." She grumbles. "If I may 'pretty fucking please with an apricot on top ask: Why is pretty boy here?"

"Is he really that bad?" I whine with a pout, and we both glance back at Brody to look him over. He catches our staring and sends us a wink and a small wave. I half-heartedly wave back and turn back to Hanna quickly.

"That boy is prettier than me girl, and that's saying something." Kurt pats my shoulder sympathetically.

"Yeah yeah, Ar. A walking Tommy Hilfiger ad. Now come on. Spill."

"Fine." I sigh and look at her dejectedly. "You really want to know?"

"Yes." She nods animatedly.

"He texted me and wanted to know if I had any plans tonight. I told him that we were having a girls night-," I'm interrupted by Kurt clearing his throat loudly. "Sorry, Kurt." He shifts his bow tie and readjusts his shoulder bag, mustering all the dignity her can before finally just nodding and walking off awkwardly.

"So, you told him that it was girls and Kurt night, and he showed up anyway?" I was hoping that Hanna would just drop the issue, or at least be distracted from it after the whole Kurt thing, but nope, she's back. "Creepy." I shrug my shoulders and turn to walk away.

"HEY! HEY, GUYS!" I hear from behind me. "Wait up!" Spencer's running down the block, shoes in hand, hair blowing in the wind, and her jeans on backwards. Surprisingly, minus the fact that she's barefoot in the streets of L.A., she looks good. _Wait, backwards?_

"Oh, god." Hanna and Kurt say at the same time. I shoot them my best 'keep quiet' glare and just like magic, they go silent. Their faces are priceless though. No lie, Kurt has just mastered a new shade of burgundy. I remind myself to snap a pic later. I'm sure Blaine would_ love_ it.

Haha, I like being evil.

"Hey guys," she's out of breath and tugging the hem of her navy blazer. "Sorry I'm late. I got caught up in _Les Miserables_."

This obviously caught Hanna's attention, "The movie? That's still out?"

"The book." Spencer clarifies.

"Ah... um, ew. Yeah, please spare us the details. I'll just wait until I see it myself. The movie, not the book. Or... I'll just Sparknote it or something. "

"No!" Spencer says enthusiastically. "The book is like really, really good. So much more rewarding than the movie, I'm sure. It's much better that way."

"So is wearing your pants the right way, but I'll take your word for it." Hanna says under her breath. Spencer's smile drops and Hanna holds back a laugh, quickly points to Spencer's lower half, and turns away quickly to not laugh outright in Spencer's face.

Spencer's cheeks flush red and she silently curses under her breath before mumbling something that resembled, "Damn, jeggings."

"Whoa! What are you guys doing out here?" Puck appears in the doorframe of the clubs double door entrance. He's wearing a tight black t-shirt with 'SECURITY' in bold white letters. "Seriously. The party's ragin' bros!" He waves us forward, earning a collective groan from the remaining people who've been waiting just as long, if not longer than, us to get into the club. One by one, he fastens a neon paper bracelet around our wrist signaling to everyone that we are 'over 21 years old.'

"Thanks Puckerman."

He shoots me a wink and a crooked smirk, "No problem, small stack." He looks thoughtful for a moment, and I can swear I see criminal wheels turning in his head. I'm not even about to ask.

With a smile, I step through the door cautiously, coughing on the simulated decorative smoke and glitter lying heavy on the air immediately inside. I feel a light tug on my wrist though, and I look back in Puck's face, his eyes shining mischievously.

"Oh, and uh, if you guys go up to the bar, I put aside a couple of V.I.P. passes. Can't have my main ladies-" He pauses "-and Kurt-" Kurt smiles appreciatively and nods. "-going without the best of the brew!" He leans closer. "The password is: Bacon Tetris." At my incredulous, questioning glance, he merely shakes his head and puts a finger to my lips. "You're welcome." I nod and smile widely, pushing aside Puck's familiar idiosyncrasies for now, entirely ready to step further into the room and begin my night.

My smile falls, however, when I feel someone taking hold of my hand. The person's stubby fingers intertwine with mine and the dampness of their skin against mine definitely turns my stomach. I already know who it is before I look, though, because certainly none of my ladies, or Kurt even more so, actually, would ever have such coarse, unshaven hair on their knuckles. Ever.

"Hey, thanks for inviting me tonight." Brody says before he swings our locked hands back and forth, a small, content smile tugging on the corners of his mouth.

I wanted to say something like, '... But you invited yourself,' but I refrain, and instead I just smile and nod. He was one of the few people I met here that wasn't Santana, my friends' roommates, or one of my roommates, all of which were friends with Santana. A new friend never hurt anybody.

* * *

_**Santana POV**_

"This is stupid." I take a swig of my beer and turn to Devyn. "I honestly don't know why we're here. I changed my mind, I'm going home." I go to take a step forward but I'm forcefully pulled back, banging my back on the bar counter. "OW!"

"Oh, shut up!" Devyn laughs, "You invited me out tonight, I didn't invite you, and speaking of which... you are a horrible date." My eyebrow rises involuntarily. "That's right, I said it. You heard it. For starters, you didn't open any doors for me... car or club, you didn't compliment me on my outfit and/or hair, and you've been checking out other girls. All. Damn. Night."

_Is she serious? The hell?_

I take a deep breath, I want to believe she's joking but for all I know his chick could be crazy. I mean how well do you really know someone after a week. "Okay, for starters, this isn't a date. I don't owe you anything. I didn't open any doors for you because we drove here on SEPARATE," I emphasize, "motorcycles. Genius. Also, you look hot. You know it, I know it, and hell everyone in the club knows it. So, shush." I laugh when I see a smile break through Devyn's stone-faced façade. "You're a dork."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Oh and B-T-W, I was not checking out other girls. I got distracted by all of the moving lights or whatever in the club." I lie.

She rolls her eyes at me before sipping her drink.

I turn my attention to said lights, studying the neon projection points being spun and zig-zagged across the large-tiled dance area and the bar. It actually_ is_ a pretty fascinating thing to watch.

Strobe lights are blaring further down, flickering and spinning as they do, and the main ceiling lights are blinking on and off with the bass of the pulsing music. Alternating colored lights flash around the dancers, highlighting the twisting mass of bodies as they spaz wildly to the music, turning the main party into a dazzling kaleidoscopic rainbow. A bright red laser star pauses briefly on the knuckle of my left hand, dancing there for a moment before stuttering and flying away to some other corner of the club.

A quick glance at Devyn's face shows a whole series of similar lights, in blue and green and yellow this time, passing and shimmering by and highlighting the angles on her face momentarily before zipping off and being replace by another. Those lights dancing across her features are only adding to her beauty, the effect making her look like a goddess.

A psychedelic goddess, true, but a goddess nonetheless.

_Was I really staring at other girls?_

I look into my cup of... well, something blue, and swirl it in a circle, bringing myself back to the conversation at hand. "Besides, I only came here for two reasons."

"The bitches and the drinks?" Devyn chuckles and I laugh, spitting up a little of the alcohol I just took in. Just as I'm about to say something wonderfully sarcastic and witty- because I mean come on, that _is_ my trademark, after all- Dev speaks up, still laughing, only this time at the alcohol that has dribbled down my dress.

"So, I know Aria is off limits but... Do you have any other hot friends?"

"Bitch, please. All of my friends are hot." I don't know why, but now it seems significantly hotter in here, and I can feel the warm fabric of my dress clinging to my sticky sides uncomfortably. I try to drink some more from my cup, but the now room-temperature liquid only seems to turn to a warm bath in my mouth, Gagging, I try to spit it out conspicuously back into my cup. Dev notices, but just raises her eyebrow and chooses to say nothing. "It's like, an unspoken rule or something. I roll with pretty bitches. " I say, trying to find some cool air in this heatbox and inhaling only more cloudfuls of glitter and smoke. _Why the hell is this place so crowded?_

"Any of them single?"

I shrug, "Guess you'll just have to find out, won't you?" I grip my cup tighter and turn to look to the V.I.P. section my friends have completely monopolized.

My eye lands on Aria, Barbie hanging on her arm like some Struggle child's lap dog, of course, but I don't even see him. All I can see is _her_, and the only thing in my head is _Oh hot damn God save me she's fucking perfect!_ My mind is suddenly numb except for one thought: **Aria**. I feel myself automatically moving towards her, robotically, eyes wide like a dopey, drooling fool and I'm completely transfixed until a cool grip on my hot forearm snaps me back to reality.

"Wait San, not yet." Devyn smiles wickedly. "Operation M-A-J is in effect, remember? Can't go spoiling it now."

"Explain." I state dazedly, still recovering from my fit of S.A.A.S. And yes, that's Sudden Aria Appearance Syndrome. Don't judge me for my acronyms!

"We have to play the part, lady. Tonight, I am your plus one, as in your date. Speaking of which, we should have like a safe word." She links her arm with mine and suddenly this doesn't seem like a good idea anymore. Hell, actually, it was never a good idea.

"We don't need a safe word. I doubt it will go that far." I twist my face in disgust. "No offense."

"Why do people always say no offense right before they offend you?" She questions to herself. I say nothing. "No offense Tana, but you're not my type." She sips her drink with a smirk and I roll my eyes.

"Look Dev, I appreciate the effort but I'm Santana Diabla Lopez. If she doesn't want me by now, then she doesn't get me at all."

"Oh, she wants you. She wants you bad. Game on." Devyn glances over obviously, and I follow her stare over to the V.I.P where Aria is turned away from the group, looking towards us. Realizing she's caught, she immediately whips her head around, and I try not to go comatose at the sight of her long, dark hair falling heavily down her back, the contrast in colors heavy, and spilling over the top of her dress. Oh God, her _dress_. Her smoky, midnight dress, that's fitted around the top and pleated in indigo blue and eminence and _Oh Dear Lord_ I think I'm going to die. Why does she always wear dark colors? They look fucking perfect on her, and she knows it. Hello? Trying _not_ to have a heart attack here. Kurt catches my stare and great, now I'm the one caught, and he raises an eyebrow at me knowingly.

I hear a sigh behind me and I use that as my cue to break this awkward eye battle with Kurt. Turning, I'm met with Devyn, arms crossed and looking sarcastic. "Ya done eye fucking now, Lopez? Cuz I must say, that's very awkward for your date over here." Eyeing me, she finally sighs and grabs my arm, steering me towards the bar. "Since you're clearly not going to be of any use to me in your current semi-conscious state, I'm just going to get you drunk. You let me do the heavy work."

I nod eagerly as we step up out of the heat and madness and through the sliding glass doors into the bar area. I'm surprised once more by how effectively those door completely shut out all of the noise and partying going on outside of the little glass alcove. The air is cool, and there are only 2 or 3 people in here watching an awards show on the little Plasma flat screen in the corner. Tall, misshapen glass vials of colorful liquids line the back wall, rising up to the ceiling and ending at shiny little dispenser levers. There's a long wooden workspace beneath it, half of which is a clan metal grille which I can only assume is to catch spills. It's so peaceful in here, it's hard to believe that only feet behind me there's a full-out Friday Night Smash Bash Rave raging on.

I slide onto on of the cool metal stools and prop my elbows on the bar, resting my head on my hands tiredly as Devyn signals for the bartender and orders 6 shots of Captain Morgan. I would have chosen tequila, but right now, I'm clearly not in charge. Hell, she's right. I_ shouldn't_ be in charge right now. I can barely keep my eyeballs in my head.

A sudden blast of music as another patron enters the room makes me jump, but I can't find it within me to actually look up and see who's coming in. There's a dull thud as the cushioned doors meet and seal once more, and the music mutes to a steady, thrumming bass beneath my feet. It's got to be one of the best things I've ever felt in my life.

"Hello, I'm a friend of Puck's. I'm here to pick up a couple of V.I.P. passes for my group." I look over and see Kurt about two feet away from me tapping lightly on the bar counter to the beat of the music blasting from the DJ booth outside. From what I heard, I think it's some Rihanna or something.

"Password?" A tall, dark-haired man in fitted blue jeans and a grey T-Shirt asks from behind the bar, smiling, his dark green eyes sparkling as he looks over Kurt. He might as well paint a damn rainbow on his chest and be done with it.

"Oh yes, it's um, Bacon... Tetris...?" Kurt cocks his head to the side and the bartender- sorry, _mixologist_- just laughs, reaching beneath the counter and lifting up a basket full of shiny, plastic cards strung on red ribbons and fancy lettering on the front. He sifts through the pile, separating out a handful labeled "_VIP pass; patron of_: Noah Puckzilla Puckerman"

"That's Puckerman alright." The man behind the bar laughs, replacing the basket and handing the passes to Kurt. I watch the exchange through heavy-lidded eyes, not really wanting to exert any more energy until I had some more alcohol in me. Kurt doesn't even glance my way though.

Another bartender slides the shots my way. I push two towards Devyn, who eagerly takes them and downs both of them without hesitation, while I keep four in front of myself.

"Santana, what a surprise. I figured you'd be out there with everyone else." Kurt finally acknowledges my presence in the room, and I shake my head before taking the first shot. The burn is instantaneous, and I almost immediately perk up.

"Here Lady Lips." I say, pushing two of the shots towards Kurt. "Take these. You're a man, right? Underneath all of your sparkly tights and bowties? You can handle a little real alcohol." He hesitates, and I can't help but roll my eyes. "You Preggers or something? Man up. Take the damn shots, Hummel."

He looks to the shots, then back to me, then back to the shots before bringing one of the glasses to his lips. "Fine, but you'll be the one explaining to Blaine why pieces of my clothing keep disappearing throughout the night." He knocks back the alcohol, and a grimace crosses his face before he smiles and reaches for the other.

"I'll even hold your hair up if your stomach decides to introduce your Porcelain face to its distant cousins." At his confusion, I sigh and explain. "Ya know, the toilets? In the bathrooms? They're porcelain." He downs the second shot, still wincing at the burn, but less this time, while giving me the finger. "Yeah, love you too."

I hear Devyn clear her throat before reaching forward, practically knocking me out of the way, and offering Kurt her hand. "Hey, I'm Devyn."

Rude.

"Kurt. I'm Kurt." He reaches for her hand and gives her his signature childlike grin. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

The bartender hands Kurt a spiraled, blue-tinted glass with a bubbling pink liquid in it. "Here ya go, buddy. Can't let a pretty boy like you go thirsty, now can we?" The guy winks and I hold back a laugh.

"Thank you so much!" Kurt exclaims in surprise. He sips it and smiles appreciatively. "Mmmm, this is _so_ good. Could I bother you just one more time?" The bartender gives Kurt a flirty smile and leans against the counter.

"Anything for you, handsome."

I roll my eyes. Poor guy. If only he knew how little chance- Okay, no chance at all- he had with Lady Lips. Kurt is just being polite. He's absolutely entirely fully supercalifragi-whateverthefuck-ally devoted to one Mr. Blaine Anderson. Trust me. I've sat through the endless hell of gooey love movies and heart eyes and sappy song exchanges. I dealt with that shit. I know.

Once we step out of the bar, my head is immediately assaulted by the clashing melody of some sort of wubbed-out dubstep remix of Lady Sovereign. The party is roaring in full effect, but the alcohol has taken the sharp edges off of it, and suddenly, I want to dance. I look over to the rest of the group and wish I would just grow a pair lady balls and pull Aria to side and force her to talk to me, but I would never. I don't even know why I let Devyn put me in a situation that would result in me further embarrassing myself. I've done that enough, I mean with all the texts and phone calls... I've turned into a borderline stalker. But I still want to dance, and damn this is a good Martini.

Anyway, Aria has made it pretty clear that she wants nothing to do with me. I should just let it go. I should have just let it go from the start; pretended the kiss never happened, given her time to come to terms with everything, given her time to think... I should have but I didn't. I pushed. I'm a pusher. Except I've got a vagina. But still.

It's like I have a Santana sitting on each of my damn shoulders, the old, bitchy, don't give a fuck about anything or anyone Santana from Lima, Ohio and the new and improved, mellow Santana from Southern California. It's taken me a while to get used to the new Santana, but honestly, I think I'm beginning to like her better.

The old Santana is telling me, 'Fuck it. You're better off,' but the new Santana is begging me to 'fight for this girl, there's something about her, she's good for you.'

"Okay, this is my jam!" Devyn shouts in my ear, slamming her bottle down onto a nearby table that seems to be made of a single, thick wire, coiled round and round into a big, circular silver spiral. I focus on the music surrounding me, and sure enough, the song has transitioned, and it doesn't even take me 3 full seconds to pick out the familiar, easily recognizable rhythm of "Cyclone" by T-Pain. _What the hell kind of freaky hipster joint is this? _The shiny beads and glitter residue littering the reflective silver tiles on the floor are humming with the bass, rising and hovering in shimmering clouds barely half an inch above the ground. It honestly feels as though the entire floor is vibrating. Or maybe that's just the nerves.

My eyes somehow wander back over to my friends across the room in the VIP. Once again they are laughing, I'm guessing at something Kurt must've said, because he's beyond dying. He goes to stand, and trips over the low, metallic red table that everyone is sitting around and falls over onto his side. Even I can't hold back my snort. He's had two shots. TWO. He's not even that small of a guy. Pshh, light weight.

That's when it happens. I'm just innocently glancing- okay, maybe staring- over in Aria's genera- okay, specific- direction, and then: our eyes meet. Her laughter stills, as does mine. It's intense. Straight through the buzz of vodka in my head. I barely register Devyn's slim hands suddenly snaking around my waist, and hell if my mind didn't translate them into Aria's. Suddenly though, I'm being dragged away from the wide, grille-inlaid pole I had been leaning on, through a cluster of shifting, stumbling bodies, and out into the center of hell itself. It's not half bad. I have no time to protest because before I know it, my hands are on Devyn's hips and her ass is grinding on me like it's her job. She's truly moving her body like I cyclone.

And just like that, Aria is not the first thing on my mind.

* * *

_**Aria POV**_

So, we've been here for a couple of hours now and everything seems to be running smoothly. Well, minus the fact that I can't keep my eyes off of Santana and Devyn on the dance floor. They've been out their for a while now and just seeing Santana dance makes me get goose bumps all over my body. I want to say that I don't know why but I'd be lying to myself... and the rest of the universe.

Every once in a while, I have to force myself to take my eyes away from the sin of Santana. The way that the two are moving under the trance of that beat could only be described as erotic. Extremely erotic. Criminal even. The way Devyn presses her body into Santana would put the girls you see in music videos to shame, there is literally no room between them. I'm sure that not even a piece of paper could fit. And if it tried, Santana would probably bitch slap it back into a tree. The two are totally in sync and way too close for my liking. Devyn's hands slowly travel from Santana's hips, up her arms, and finally snake up through her hair.

_Get a room._ I think bitterly. _Oh hell no, wait. Never mind. Don't do that. That's definitely not what I want. But what_ do_ I want? _I'll be damned if I know.

One thing I _do_ know, however, is that if I could shoot flames from my eyes, Devyn would be a damn bonfire right now. Jealous doesn't even begin to describe what I'm feeling at the moment.

How dare she?

Shit, how dare _Santana?_

I'm so caught up in what's going on out there on the sex floor that I have completely forgotten that I'm not alone in the galaxy. I'm at a club. A very crowded, very public club. At a table full of people who probably now think I'm the biggest weirdo on the planet. Here they are talking about god knows what and I'm here drooling and shooting imaginary fire at the woman dancing with my woman. I might as well go larping.

It's not until something suddenly smacks me in the face and my vision goes black that I am completely snapped back to reality. I yank away whatever is covering my eyes, taking a deep breath of... "fresh", air, and examine it. _What the hell...? Is this... a _shirt_? Yep. Definitely a shirt. _Actually, It's a navy button up... with a hippo broach much like the one Kurt was wearing earlier. I scan my group of friends and sure enough, he's shirtless. And dancing. On top of the ball pit slide.

Awkward.

Blaine is hastily trying to redress Kurt. With each passing minute, Kurt peels an article of clothing off and Blaine tries to counter his actions. It's like some kind of creepy tango up on the platform.

"Nooooooo...," Kurt slurs, "It- it- I..." He trails off.

"Kurt? Kurt, put this on." I hear Blaine implore.

"I'm hot. Damn it!"

"Wait! Wait, Ku-" With a yelp, Blaine stumbles backwards under the weight of Kurt's drunken body, and we all watch in shock as the two slip, teetering for balance, and then Kurt's body weight finally tips them, and they fall down the slide and roll into the ball pit, scattering the little plastic into the air in a large spray and pelting all of the unfortunate bystanders who happened to be in the vicinity. A half naked girl covered in glowing paint tattoos and long, dreaded hair and beads climbs clumsily out of the ball pit, barefoot, followed by an extremely high looking male counterpart, glaring angrily over her shoulder and muttering bitterly under her breath as Kurt and Blaine rise from the center of the colorful pit, both laughing like idiot and fists raised victoriously.

"That was awesome!" Kurt shrieks, and tackles Blaine back down into the depths of plastic. All of my friends are laughing and toasting, and I find myself just kind of sitting there. Wow, talk about a buzz kill. Well, sorry for being born, people.

The DJ interrupts the vibe, much to the crowd's protests, to introduce the next song. I'm content to just sit there until the club rots down around me, and hobos move in, but suddenly Brody's there, and asking me if I want to dance. He can barely stand. He's had his fair share of drinks tonight. I just shrug, because hey, if Santana can play her games, so can I. We make our way to the floor.

There's only one fly in my ointment.

I've never been the best dancer.

Ever.

Brody is facing me with the biggest, most crooked smile I think I've ever seen. It kind of reminded me of the Grinch. In a way it was really cute, but then on the other hand, like everything else on his body, it made him seem kind of sketchy; Like a pedophiliac Jim Carrey.

Or Sandusky.

Anyway, I didn't know what to do with my hands, so they were in the air for the most part. Brody's hands were resting on my hips and we kind of just swayed awkwardly to the beat. He kept pulling me into him, and before I know it, Brody is behind me.

I look around and little by little all of my friends were surrounding us in pairs.

Sam and Mercedes

Spencer and Rachel. _Okay... weird._

Blaine and a more than drunk (And primarily naked) Kurt.

Hanna and Caleb.

Quinn and Emily.

After a couple of songs, and by a couple of songs I mean 7, I make my way to the bar. Of course, because the gods haven't punished me enough yet tonight, Santana and Devyn are there when I go in. Devyn is all over Santana, arms wrapped around her waist and head on her shoulder... it bothers the hell out of me. I force myself to ignore them, though, and order my drink. I need something heavy. I need to lose all coherent thoughts and inhibitions and to not play it safe.

"Hey, what can I get you?" A bartender asks.

"Um... Uh... Can I have a Cherry Coke?" _A Cherry Coke, really? That's not something heavy. Good Job, Aria! _

"Sure thing." The bartender quickly mixes my drink and hands it to me with a pitying smile. Am I really that pathetic? I sip it slowly, thinking about everything that has happened since I landed in Los Angeles. Of course, everything leads back to the beautiful, bloodthirsty brunette Latina on the bar stool beside me, currently with another, dangerously beautiful woman all but cuddling her in the middle of this club.

Santana.

It's like the second I stepped foot into Spencer and Emily's apartment that day and met Santana, things changed for me. For the better, I think.

I hope.

No, I know that it has.

I can't keep avoiding her. I have to talk to her. Like, now. I down the rest of my soda and make my way to the other end of the bar. Santana's back is to me, so, I hesitate. Devyn notices me, stops what ever she and Santana were talking about, and nods her head in my direction.

Santana turns around and smiles at me, trying to play suave and nonchalant, but her eyes are showing nothing but nervous anticipation. My heart just about stops.

"Hey." It comes out a lot quieter than I hoped.

"How ya doin'?" Santana beams. She's definitely had her fair share of drinks. Her crooked smile says it all, but she's not balling her eyes out yet, so we're good. I eye Devyn up and down before turning my attention back to the gorgeous Latina that is here in front of me. She runs her hand through her hair and takes a sip of an odd, murky green liquid that reminds me of the inside of a glow stick.

"Um... to tell you the truth, not too good." Why am I being so awkward? I just want to spit it out already. I mean, it's not hard to say, 'I'm sorry that I am an idiot. I kissed you, you kissed me back, and I'm not sure if I'm gay but I would really like to kiss you again.'

"Look, I'm sorry." Santana interrupts before I can even speak. _Why is she apologizing?_

Devyn has yet to get the hint that this is an 'A' and 'B' conversation, in fact, since this conversation has started, Devyn has somehow seemingly managed to move even closer. I'm pretty sure that I can feel her breath on my face.

"Don't be sorry. Y'know... just tell me what's going on." I gesture to Devyn. It comes out jealous and for once I'm not going to second guess myself on that. I can admit it. I, Aria Montgomery, am jealous. I am jealous of another bitch sitting on my woman, and I do not give a fuck. I want to be the one who dances with Santana at the club, I want to be the one she confides in, the one she laughs with, the one who she's with. _Wait, what?_

"I just wanted to have a good time tonight. I didn't think I'd see you."

"Well... here I am."

We fall into an awkward silence.

A minute passes and then another and then another. Not being able to take the silence any longer, Devyn offers me her hand. "Hi, I don't think we've met. I'm Devyn."

I stare at her in disbelief. She can't be serious right now. I offer her my fakest, most polite smile and glance at her outstretched hand before returning my attention to Santana.

"Can we talk?" I ask Santana. She nods and pokes Devyn in the side, and the woman begrudgingly disentangles herself from Santana's lap to allow her to stand. We exit the glass doors, and I can't help but feel a small jolt of pride and satisfaction as the doors shut on Devyn and I'm the one leaving with Santana. We're walking toward the clubs restroom. I follow but I'm hesitant, because this all seems too familiar. At a club, grungy bathroom... it feels like history is about to repeat itself. If I'm not mistaken, Ezra and I were in the same predicament a couple of years ago.

I shake the thoughts of Ezra out of my head. He's not in my life anymore. He's over 3,000 miles away. Right now I'm here. Santana is here. We're here and I'm- I'm- I'm really about to piss myself. Literally.

Note to self: Drink less before a huge, intimidating conversation that could potentially make or break not only your relationship, but also the rest of your life.

Pepsi is no joke.

We walk into the empty bathroom and I race to one of the clean stalls, surprising Santana. It doesn't take me long, but as I go to wash my hands and San is sat on the counter, she looks miserable and forlorn, as if she'd been alone all night. I realize that I can relate entirely. All the company in the world means nothing if there's someone else on your mind.

Santana _is_ the someone else on my mind.

I wonder what I am to her.

* * *

**A/N:**

**To celebrate the end of finals week and to show you all how much I love you, here is chapter 9! Woo! They're finally getting somewhere! I'm EXCITED! Are you excited? XD**

**So, school is finally out and I don't mean to toot my own horn (WANKY?!) but I totally failed every single one of my finals with flying colors. Yay College!**

**Keep it synful! **

**Xoxo, Synful92**


	10. Chapter 10

_**DISCLAIMER: Sadly, I don't own Glee or Pretty Little Liars (it would be awesome though). I don't own all of the characters but I DO own the majority of this story line.**_

* * *

_**Chapter Ten**_

* * *

_We walk into the empty bathroom and I race to one of the clean stalls, surprising Santana. It doesn't take me long, but as I go to wash my hands San is already sat on the counter. She looks miserable and forlorn, as if she'd been alone all night. I realize that I can relate entirely. All the company in the world means nothing if there's someone else on your mind._

_Santana is that someone else on my mind._

_I wonder if the feeling's mutual.._

**X**

_**Santana POV**_

"So you're back?" It comes out quiet, really quiet, but I refuse to lift my head. I refuse to show her just how hurt and vulnerable I am. It's been two weeks, two excruciating weeks, with as little as a glance. I know it may seem like no big deal but to go from talking to each other and hanging out everyday to not talking at all, it kills a person. It killed me.

"I never left." She's just as quiet and even though I haven't looked up yet I know that she's studying me. Looking right through me, trying to figure out what's going on beneath the surface, past the hard exterior I try to put on.

"Well, you were gone. Are you okay?" Finally looking up at her I see that she has no idea what I'm talking about. "I'm only asking because you never answered my texts or calls. Hell, you didn't even have the decency to come to me afterwards. I had no idea what was going on. God, I was so damn worried about you, Aria."

"I needed to clear my head." Is all she offers.

_Clear your head? Clear your _head_?! Really?! _I want to scream. With each passing second I can feel myself getting more and more upset. I really don't want to lose my cool. We're supposed to be "fixing" things, whatever that means, and the last thing I want to do right now is scare her. And I'd be willing to bet a dozen pairs of my sexy ass heels that if Snix decides to make an appearance, scaring her will be the least of my worries. Shit, maybe _hurting_ her.

I mean I can rock anything, so jail stripes would be fine, but... I'm not about that life.

Auntie Coco is about that life.

God, Aria is so frustrating sometimes.

"Okay, well are you clear now? Do you know what you want?" It comes out a lot harsher than I intended, and shit, so much for "calm and reasonable". This is going down hill fast.

"Well... I kinda invited Brody tonight-."

I cut her off almost instantly.

"Oh, okay, I see. So _that's_ what you want then, Ar? Brody? Greasy, Nip/Tuck, Abercrombie wearing, Plastic Von Schwarzenegger?" Yeah, I'm losing this battle.

Maybe I'm not giving the guy enough credit but he creeps me out, there's something about him that's off, and plus, he's... "handsy". I've caught him groping Aria an unhealthy amount of times tonight alone (as well as a couple other RuPaulish looking females, but I sure hope no one tells _Aria_ that... haha, crash and burn Brody.) and by this point all I want to do is break his fucking wrists.

"San-"

"Like seriously, he's some kind of freakish Botox mutation!"

"Santana, can you-"

"And I _swear _he bathes in Eau de Parfum or something. It's like some kind of bad rerun of the Adam's Family, 90210!"

"Shut up!" Aria suddenly yells, slamming her hand hard on the wall of the bathroom stall behind her, and I jump.

I jump hard.

"Will you please just let me fucking _speak_?!" She shouts in exasperation. I've never, in all my time of knowing her, seen Aria actually get angry before.

"Hey! I'm trying to concentrate in here!" Someone yells suddenly from inside one of the stalls. Aria's eyes go wide, anger dissolving in amazement in the span of a second, and I nervously scuff my heel in front of me, trying my hardest not to laugh.

"Umm, sorry...?" Aria calls back awkwardly, running a hand through her hair. "Should- um, do you know how long you'll be?"

"Well, I had Lamb Curry for dinner and now I'm shitting out a _Buick_! Could... Be... Awhile..." The woman says brokenly between grunts and splashes. Definitely, not a pleasant experience for any of the parties involved.

Aria turns back to me, and although her face is amused, beneath she smile lines there's exhaustion and sadness. She looks at me expectantly, when I don't say anything she rolls her eyes. "I- Santana... you know I didn't mean to yell at you." She speaks forcefully, in a considerably lower tone. "It's just... Brody, he's just- Brody..."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I've just been so used to filling in the blanks myself. YOU kiss ME, and then fall of the face of the earth." It's a harsh whisper.

Her eyes widen in disbelief, and she opens her mouth to argue when suddenly the toilet flushes (twice) and we both fall silent, shooting each other angry glances.

The stall door opens and a woman steps out. She's tiny, very thin, and not the least bit embarrassed about what just went down behind the stall door that's not too far from Aria. She hastily washes her hands (getting water everywhere might I add. I'm scooted so far into the wall that I'm practically hugging it), and then shakily turns around giving Aria the good ol' up-down and a crooked, flirty smile. Like clockwork, my jaw clenches, my arms cross, and I stare blankly past the two, but not before rolling my eyes.

Aria shuffles nervously as she tries to bob and weave around the woman so that we can get on with our conversation. The woman finally gets the hint and quickly shuffles, or rather stumbles, out of our space. Once the door closes, Aria moves closer to where I'm sitting.

"I spent days thinking about you, Aria. Days." I accuse pathetically.

She steps forward and turns to face me, placing her hands on my knees and stares up at me with those big hazel eyes of hers. They leave me weak every time. I can feel myself caving in, slowly being taken over by her spell. I look away because I just can't deal with this right now. She has to know that what she did wasn't cool. What she did _hurt._

Santana doesn't get_ hurt._

"Santana? Santana, please look at me..." Aria's voice is pleading, and the soft palms of her hands gently caress my cheeks, the pads of her thumbs wiping away tears that I didn't even know had fallen. I look up to her slowly and my fucking god those eyes are reading my soul.

Wait. I have a soul?

"I thought about you every second that I stayed away..." Aria begins in a guilty whisper. "But I also thought of the consequences, the questions from our friends, society... my parents."

Her parents? How is that even a valid argument? And why is she so stuck on what other people think? God I've got to tutor this girl in the fine arts of not giving a fuck.

"Your parents? Who cares about what other people think, Aria?!"

She shakes her head, "Let's face it, things can't go back to the way they were. Things need to change."

"Yeah, well, they already have." And with that, I jump off of the counter and make my way to the door. I pause briefly, I don't know why but I do. The air in the room suddenly becomes dense. The sob that I've been holding back since we've entered this grungy little room finally escapes.

"Santana?" I feel her small hand on my shoulder but I don't turn around.

I shake her hand off of me and leave her standing in the dimly lit room, not giving myself the chance to look back and be drawn back into her intoxicating trap.

I've said what I had to say.

**X**

Pushing past people in the crowd, I enter the enclosed bar area and grab my purse. I look over to the three shots lined in front of Devyn and take one, then another, but just as I reach out to grab the third, Devyn swats my hand away and downs the last on herself.

"Excuse me?" I call to the guy behind the bar. "Yeah, um- can I get about," I have to think about it for a second. On a scale from one to ten, how many bitches do I want to introduce to the spawn of Lima Heights Adjacent right now? Hmm... I'd say maybe... 8? Yeah. 8 sounds about right, "Can I have 8 shots of tequila, sir? With salt and lime." He raises an eyebrow in disbelief, like I'm totally unaware of what I just asked.

"Eight shots?" He asks incredulously. "Of tequila?"

"Yes, David Ginola, of tequila. Have you not heard of it?" I snap. Ahhh, welcome home Snix.

"Well, technically, it's against state law." He begins apologetically. "I can't serve you that much all at once. You would get drunk and I could lose my job."

State law? What the hell? Isn't the point of going to a bar to get drunk? That's why we come here right?

"Look, It's been a long week-."

"It's Monday." He interrupts.

"It's been a long life then, Davie, whatever." I emphasize with the roll of my eyes, "and right now, I just want to get D-R-U-N-C-K. Drunk. Got it?"

"Seems like you're already pretty close Santana..." Devyn mumbles beside me, and I silence her with a glare.

"No, I don't think you "got it", lady. So, let me break it down for you. I. Could. Lose. My. Job." He's practically yelling as he leans over the bar and stabs the air with each word, only inches away from my face.

"Beats losing your goddamn arm!" I snap, grabbing his wrist.

"Santana!" Devyn scolds from behind me.

A few patrons further down see to take this as their cue to leave, and hastily gather up their things before filing out silently.

"Hey, you didn't pay!" He calls after one of them, but said offender apparently never looks back, because he curses under his breath and glares back at me irritably.

"Miss." He growls, easily snatching his arm back from my liquor-weakened grasp. "I'm going to have to ask you to step back from the bar, and refrain from touching me, otherwise I'll have to get Security up here."

"Sir, please." Devyn speaks up, her voice suddenly light and sugary, tracing one of her nails lightly up his arm which is resting on the bar cushion. "My friend here is really having a bad night." She pouts and looks up through her eyelashes, the pure image on innocent seduction. "Is there anyway you could... just do us a _tiny_ little favor? Just this once?"

The guy's face doesn't even change. "Ma'am, I'm sorry. But there's nothing I can do for you." He pulls his arm away slightly, and Devyn's sweet smile falters briefly before refixing itself once more.

"Well tell me, what's this... legal limit, anyway?" She asks, changing tactics. I'm just standing there like a useless lump on a log.

"Four." He says shortly.

"Ah-ha." She says. "How about this? Four shots for me, four for my girl here, and we'll go drink them outside and leave you to your night?" She smiles, and I smile too. The girl's a genius.

"Alright. Alright." He puts his hands up in mock defense. I nod and catch a glimpse of a very pissed off Quinn storming towards me, Emily getting dragged behind her. Are they- they are! Holy shit they're holding hands!

The door slams open about as fast as it can, considering air pressure and all, and she steps up very close to me, leaving Emily to stand awkwardly behind her.

"Hey Dev." Emily says quietly.

"Sup?" Dev returns with a tight smile.

Quinn glares into my eyes, simmering. "Care to explain to me why Aria just came out of the ladies room bright red and wiping her eyes?" She hisses.

I glance down at their interwoven fingers and smirk, "Hello Fabgay." I pause and look over her shoulder. "Other lesbian." Em nods in greeting. "Care to explain to me why you two are holding hands?"

Devyn mumbles, "You did not just- oh my god." I quickly turn to face her and harshly put my pointer finger to my lips telling her to be quiet. She rolls her eyes and takes a swig of the beer that the bartender so generously placed in front of her.

Quinn shoots me a signature glare I remember from my high school days, and I smile sweetly.

"That little bitch face isn't gonna scare me Q. I was a Cheerio too, remember?" Quinn says nothing, and so to demonstrate I hop up onto my tiptoes as best as I can in these heels, and clap in fake excitement. "L-G-B-T, come out of the closet please! You're gay! Y-Y- you're gay! Yay!" I shake imaginary pom-poms, and both the bartender and Devyn snort in laughter behind me. Quinn just shakes her head, and Emily turns away, hiding the blush that quickly crept to her cheeks.

Mr. Bartender sits four shots on the counter in front of me, and four in front of Devyn, with a little tray with salt and wedged limes between us. I nod in thanks and quickly down three of the shots in a row.

"Santana?" Quinn's stares at me expectantly. I offer her the most fake smile I can muster and do two more shots, stealing one from Dev's row, with Emily staring at me, eyes wide. I don't know why she's so surprised. I mean it's not like it's the first time she's seen me drink.

It _is_ the first time she's seen Snix drink, though, and maybe I'd do well to remember that.

"We saw the two of you go into the bathroom together."

I nod encouragingly. "Yep, uh-huh, totally giving fucks here." Up goes the glass. "Please, continue."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Add that with Aria crying, and the fact that something has been seriously off between the two of you for a while now, and the result is that something's up. So spill."

"Nothing to spill." I frown in mock apology and gather up my purse and cell phone. "Except you, Fabgay. You've got lots to spill, don't you?"

Quinn's eyes widen, and Devyn covers her laughter as she lays her money down on the counter and gets up to follow me out the door. "Enjoy the closet!" I call behind me, and then we're immersed in the club once more, leaving Quemily and their mutual shock in the dust.

The alcohol is really beginning to have an effect on me. I don't know how many drinks I've had tonight, though looking back on it now... I probably shouldn't have taken all 8 shots so quickly. And there I was making fun of Kurt only hours before.

"Whoa, are you okay?" Devyn asks as I stumble into a nearby pillar, kicking over a chair in my path as I go. I push past Devyn, roughly hooking my arm through my purse.

"Look, I just have to get out of here. I have to go." I stagger through the crowd, Devyn hot on my heels, until suddenly all the noise in the room goes numb and mute in my head, nothing but a needling buzz in the center of my mind, and the lights around me dim into a spotlight, highlighting my nightmares. I see _them_ across the room.

Aria is perched on Brody's lap, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist, with her head rested on his shoulder. My ears seem to have gone deaf, and everything in front of my eyes it kind of unsteady and tilting, but I can tell that she is crying. Brody is slowly running his hand up and down her back and I can't help but feel like the biggest ass in the world right.

I did that.

Faintly I hear Devyn yelling my name, but I'm so entranced in the scene before me it barely registers. Aria looks up and begins to caress his thigh, and I feel like I'm going to throw up. A hand shakes me roughly by the arm, and suddenly the crashing of the rave comes rushing back in a dizzying roar, almost shattering my ears. I shake my head weakly. "I've gotta go." I whine pitifully, as though I've just made the realization, and I pull my arm from Devyn's light grip, staggering across the bucking floor, through the pinwheeling lights, and toward the lurching metal doors of the club entrance.

Wow, this sounds like Dora, doesn't it? ACROSS the floor, THROUGH the lights, TOWARDS the door, Hahahaha Oh my fucking God I'm losing it.

The cool California air hits my hot, tear stained face, and I reach up subconsciously and touch my wet cheek. I hadn't even known I was crying. _God, get it together Santana! _It's half past one in the morning but the line is just as long, if not longer than the similar formation we were standing in only hours ago. I begin to make my way to the parking lot, ignoring all of the catcalls and whistles.

Devyn calls out from somewhere behind me, but I don't stop. I just... can't. I reach my bike and stagger, tripping into my prized possession and nearly knocking it over. "Shit." I mutter.

"Santana!" Devyn pulls me back, spinning me, forcing me to look at her. "Talk to me." I lean back and pointedly look everywhere _but_ her. _Did the sidewalk always have cracks?_ "Please?" Her voice begs somewhere in the distance. _When the fuck did sidewalks start having cracks? _"Santana!" Louder now.

I look up at her and try to look irritated, but a giggle escapes anyhow. Devyn raises a questioning eyebrow. "Tehe... _Cracks_." I snort.

Devyn just sighs and rolls her eyes. "Let me drive you home, You're drunk."

"I'm buzzed." I correct automatically. "There's a difference." My chest begins to buzz, followed by a very familiar ringtone, Aria's ringtone, but I ignore it. Whatever it is, it can wait. Aria who?

Not long after the buzzing stops, it picks up again... and again... and again. I guess third time's the charm though, because after that the calls cease. Just as I let out a breath of relief, the phone begins to buzz again. I reach into the top of my dress, totally feeling my self up in search of said phone. You'd think it would be an easy task, but God and Doctor Dwarfman (No relation to Rachel) have blessed me with a very generous set of twins (If you know what I mean). So yes. I'm struggling.

"I know it's not my place and that they always say that the heart wants what it wants and all, but... Why her? Why is she worth the fight? You've been bending over backwards trying to please this chick. Writing letters and shit, Dude, no one does that anymore. And where has that got you?"

I give her a dismissive shrug. This really isn't the time. "You're standing outside of a club, with your ass cheeks hanging out, crying because once again, she's upset you. It's not okay." I huff and pull down the hem of my dress. Last thing I want to do is pull a Britney Spears. The public is so not ready for that hot mess. "So, why?" she continues. "Why is she so important? You told me and I quote: 'I don't do relationships. They're too messy, full of emotions, and then one of you ends up hurting like hell. It's like a bitch on her period. Who needs that shit? I don't.' Yet, here you are."

I ignore her snarky, bitchy impersonation and continue to rummage for my phone, which has long since stopped buzzing. Once I find it, I stare at the phone for a minute, for no other reason than I'd done all that adjustment work to get it it had sure as hell better make the fight worth it. Like magic, it lights up again, the sudden buzz startling me, and I nearly drop it.

_INCOMING CALL- ARIA_. I look up, and Devyn shoots me a look that's a curious mixture of concern and irritation. I shrug my shoulders and before I take a deep breath, finger hover over the two options, 'answer' and 'ignore.' I smile in satisfaction.

Call ignored.

I stare down at the phone for a minute before turning my attention back to my friend. I mean I suppose you could call her that. She's been there for me or whatever, I guess. Much like Aria, Devyn gets me and doesn't put up with my crap. Enough said. The only difference is that I don't see her the way I see Aria, at all. Yeah, Devyn is smokin' hot and funny as hell and a good listener (She's lent an ear numerous times in the short amount of time we've known each other), but I could never be with her. Like, "_be_ with her" be with her. We would never work out. We're too much a like.

"I'll um... text you. Okay? Later, I'll text you." Before she can protest I grab my leather jacket and helmet from the back of my bike and gear up, slipping in my earphones and hitting shuffle before I putting on my helmet and slipping my phone in my front jacket pocket. I feel Devyn's fingers grasp at my jacket, but I jerk my arm away and wave her away.

I turn the key in the ignition and the hum of the engine drowns out what ever it is that Devyn proceeds to say. Looking over my shoulder, I see that her arms are flailing and her eyes seem like they are going to pop out of her head at any moment, but I can't hear a thing she is saying. Actually, if I'm being 100 percent honest, I don't really want to hear it either. No offense to her or anything.

Whose bright idea was it for me to wear a dress and drive a motorcycle?

Oh right... mine.

In hindsight, I probably should have gotten a taxi or something.

Yeah... Welp: Too late now, it seems.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Devyn's hand reaching toward me again, and I propel the bike forward a few feet, out of her reach. The loud grinding screech reminds me of what I'd forgotten before.

I kick the kickstand back and shift in the familiar seat, trying to remain balanced. It's kind of hard when I've been knocking back drinks all night like Floyd Mayweather. Not gonna lie, maybe I _am_ more than just a little buzzed. Eh, let bygones be bygones, or whatever the say.

I give Devyn a small wave and kick off of the sidewalk. I see her hands go up to her face, and as I speed off in the opposite direction of the city, I wonder vaguely why she's crying.

**X**

Somehow I end up on the beach.

Yep. The same beach that Aria and I walked on only hours before everything turned upside down.

It's so bizarre.

I don't really know how long I've been here, silently regarding the dark-foamed waves as they lap against the shore, wondering why life was so easy for them... but I do know that from where I'm sitting, there's something else I can see quite clearly; something I wish I couldn't. The Santa Monica Pier- or, more importantly, the Ferris wheel of doom- stands dark and obstinate, silhouetted against the lighter, purple-gray background of the night sky.

Note to self: _Start looking for other beaches._

On top of that, my ornery phone decided to add insult to injury and shuffle in every sad (or semi-sad) song on the planet, making even my back-up safe haven- listening to music- unenjoyable. As if my night wasn't sad enough. I don't even know why half of this stuff is on my phone to begin with. When have I ever felt in need of love before?

_**Give me love, like her... 'cause lately I've been waking up alone. Paint splattered teardrops on my shirt, told you I'd let them go, and that I'll fight my corner. Maybe tonight I'll call ya, after my blood... turns into alcohol.**_

_**No, I just wanna hold ya.**_

Well, apparently I have. If only Ed Sheeran could see me now. I angrily wipe away the relentless tears that just refuse to cease. Like really? I know I've broken my rule of never giving fucks countless times in the last month or so, but I still have to ask: Since when did I ever cry over a girl? I'm Santana Diabla Lopez. I cry over no one. Okay, we'll technically I did cry over Brittany... but that's different. We were best friends. We _**ARE**_ best friends.

Who knew that a quick little kiss, stolen on the Ferris wheel, would lead to a whole ball of emotions that I didn't even know I was capable of? I mean yeah, Brit and I, we'd had some good times, but deep down I always knew that it would never be anything serious. We tried the whole relationship thing. It didn't work out; Brittany was still undeniably and completely caught up on her ex-boyfriend, the smoothest criminal I know (Well, kind of), Artie Abrams.

After I got over the fact that she left me, and saw that she was truly happy with Stubbles McCripple Pants, I tried my hardest to regain the friendship I almost ruined. Was Brittany the love of my life? No, but she was my first love and she is my best friend. It wasn't like it is with Aria though. Nothing has ever been like it is with Aria.

_**Give a little time to me... or burn this out. We'll play hide and seek, to turn this around. All I want is the taste that your lips allow.**_

_**My, my, my, my, oh give me love.**_

Honestly, I'm at a loss. As lame as this may sound (and I will take this with me to my grave), my mind is telling me to give up. My ice-cube of a heart, however, is telling me to wait it out. I don't know. All I know is I can't go through Brittany 2.0. I just can't.

_**Give me love like never before... 'cause lately I've been craving more. And it's been a while but I still feel the same. Maybe I should let you go.**_

_**You know I'll fight my corner, and that tonight I'll call ya, after my blood, turns into alcohol.**_

_**No, I just wanna hold ya...**_

After a minute or two, the song fades out and the music to another one begins. Three seconds in and I sigh, dropping my head to my knees in resignation, too lazy to reach for my phone and change it. Of course it'd be _My Immortal_. Thanks, Evanescence. If I didn't feel like killing myself before...

I stare out again at the waves crashing onto the shoreline. It's a pretty calm night, people wander by every once and a while but for the most part it's just me and the night. I sit back and think about everything. Like, _everything_. Things that happened... Things that didn't happen. Things I wish I could go back and change.

Time passes, maybe half an hour or so, and I find myself tipping to the side. I don't even bother to fight the pull, and allow my body to sag down to the cool, soft sand until I'm lying on my side. It's an interesting new perspective on the shoreline before me.

In a way, the waves are like a metaphor. A metaphor of _what_, exactly, I don't know right now, but a metaphor nonetheless. Adele fades in and I whine in frustration at this obstinate night. She's only adding to my pity party, and she knows it.

_**When the rain is blowin' in your face and the whole world is on your case, I could offer you a warm embrace to make you feel my love. **_

_**When the evening shadows and the stars appear and there is no one there to dry your tears, I could hold you for a million years to make you feel my love.**_

_**I know you haven't made your mind up yet but I would never do you wrong. I've known it from the moment we met, no doubt in my mind where you belong.**_

Fuck Adele. Getting me all emotional and shit.

_**I'd go hungry, I'd go black and blue, I'd go crawlin' down the avenue, No, there's nothin' that I wouldn't do to make you feel my love.**_

_**The storms are raging on the rollin' sea and on the highway of regrets, the winds of change are blowing wild and free. You ain't seen nothin' like me yet. **_

_**I could make you happy, make your dreams come true. There's nothing that I would not do. Go to the ends of the Earth for you...**_

My phone beeps, signaling 2% battery left. _Shit._

_**To make you feel my love.**_

The songs come to an end, and with a grunt I wrench my arm out from under my body to grab the phone and pull the earphone plug out of the jack before anything else wants to come along and drive over my heart. Looking at the screen, I notice two things. The first one being that I have 12 missed calls and 7 missed texts. The second is that it's nearly 6 in the morning. Sure enough, the edges of the horizon are just beginning to tint pink and light blue, ready to embrace the promise of the bright, wonderful day ahead of it.

Fuck your happiness, sunrise.

I guess I should be heading home.

_**X**_

I open the front door and immediately I'm hit with the smell of vanilla scented candles. I guess Emily is around here somewhere. I look at the digital clock sitting above the fireplace mantle, reading _**6:43**_. Yeah, everyone's off at class.

"Hello!" I call out. I hear the shower running and I hear someone singing. It has to be Emily because it's too deep to be Kurt, too angelic to be Spencer (She's monotone and pitchy), and not annoying enough to be Rachel.

I knock softly on the door, just to be sure. I hear curtains rustling and bottles being moved, and then Emily shyly pops only her head out of the door and smiles. "Hey."

I let out a breathy chuckle and sigh in relief. "Hey."

"You just getting in?"

"Yeah." It's all I say and thankfully she doesn't ask me any more questions. "Well, I'm sorry to interrupt your shower. Honestly, I could use a shower too. I've got sand in all of the wrong places." She raises an eyebrow and shakes her head in mock disappointment.

"You do that." She smiles and the bathroom door closes.

I go to the fridge and grab a bottle of water before heading to my room. I throw my heels in front of my dresser and make my way over to my closet. It's still early as all hell, and class isn't even a remote option in my head right now, so yeah, nothing better to do. Guess I'm taking a shower.

On second thought, my bed is looking really good right now. Especially since I spent hours upon hours at a sweaty club and on a nearly vacant beach. Hmm... I could totally hop in the shower _after_ I relax for a bit, and sheets can always be washed.

Yup, sounds like a plan.

I throw myself onto my bed- and when I say throw I mean I literally _throw_ myself- and land on the pillowy-softness of my tempur-cloud mattress. I find a comfortable position and close my eyes, exhaling in relief.

Luckily, I'm not given the chance to let my thoughts wander. I'd done enough of that last night. A knock on my bedroom door is to thank for this. I slowly open my eyes and stare at my door.

"Ugh! Who is it?!" I call out.

No Answer.

Whoever is on the other side knocks again. They're obviously ignoring my question. "COME IN!" I yell. The knob turns slowly, as if the intruder is hesitating. _Oh, so they heard that one. _The door finally swings opens across the carpet slowly, revealing my guest._ Somebody kill meeee... _Glory hallelujah, of _course_. Of all fucking people on this planet, of _course_ the person standing before me is none other than the wonderful, heartbreaking, beautiful and bloodthirsty Aria. Yippee! Yay! Fuck my fucking life.

I bury my face in the mattress in misery and groan something that's unintelligible even to me. Aria is silent, and allows me to bitch it out, even though technically she should be offended. Finally, I compose myself and return to maturity and adulthood. With a final sigh, I raise my head and look up at Aria through my tangled hair.

I can't help my mouth falling slightly open in surprise. As gorgeous as she is, today she looks absolutely horrible. She looks tired and miserable and like she's been crying all night. Her red face and the bags under her eyes validate my thoughts. I've never seen her look anything less than stunning, so this is a bit of a surprise.

I begrudgingly drag myself up and scoot back until my back is hitting my headboard. "What the hell are you doing here?" I finally ask. She looks to the floor and I mentally face palm myself, although I can't let my scowl falter.

"Santana-"

"No, you should go, Aria. You shouldn't be here."

"I came to explain. We need to talk." I scoff, and she continues. "And by talk I mean actually _talk,_ not screaming at each other and then storming out of the room."

I shake my head and laugh. She can't be serious. "Look, I've been through this before. I know what it feels like to like someone, Aria. I'm not 6. So _much_ so" I emphasize, "That it's possible for them to completely shut you down. Repeatedly. I'll be damned if I put myself through that much pain again."

"Santana will you just-"

"No. No, I won't. It's not fair, and it's too hard. It's too hard seeing you in class everyday, or in the elevator, or here at the apartment," I point at our surroundings, "all of the time and pretending that I'm not attracted to you, when I am. I can't pretend that I don't want you because I do. I want you so bad, Aria."

Silence.

Minutes go by and it feels like much longer. I shift against the headboard awkwardly, not meeting Aria's eyes. Here I am basically pouring my heart out and she can't even look at me. I can't take this anymore.

Finally, she looks up, and there are tears in her eyes. "Santana-"

"I think you should go."

Aria's mouth hangs open for a moment, just staring at me like she has no idea what to say. Finally, with a gulp and a swallow, she shuts it and nods in agreement, and makes her way to the door. My heart stops, drops, and breaks all at the same time, but I say nothing. She's not going to see me cry.

Aria's small frame almost clears the door , but she suddenly pauses. I cock my head to the side and my eyes narrow. _What the hell is she doing?_

Aria turns around and looks me dead in the eyes. Before I have time to think, let alone react, Aria is coming straight towards me, purposefully, and with a new look in her eyes. Hunger, perhaps.

I would totally think it was hot if I wasn't so scared.

Her hands cup my face and she pulls me into her. Our lips connect and my heart seems to be beating again. Thumping, actually. Little by little, second by second, I can feel it piecing itself back together. But I don't want to get my hopes up. After the initial shock of her mouth on mine wears off, I waste no time responding to the kiss. It's fast and needy and oh so good. Our bodies press against each other and our chemistry is undeniable. After air becomes necessary, I pull back and look up to study the girl pressing me down to the bed. Her eyes are still closed but a small, satisfied smile plays on her lips.

_Oh, her lovely, lovely, full lips. I could kiss her for days on end. Wait? Did I just say lovely? Since when did that word integrate into my vocabulary? Santana Lopez doesn't use the word lovely. I just don't._

"Hey, you alright?" I whisper. I don't want this to be a repeat of what happened the first time we kissed. Aria nods, and opens her those big hazel eyes to look down into my own.

"I want you too."

I pause. Did she just- think she- Oh my god! She wants me. I internally spaz. I can't believe this. Is this real life? Oh my god!

A soft hand caresses my cheek and I suddenly remember where I am and who I'm with. "Say something. Please?" She's so vulnerable and quiet. I look down to her a give her a small smile. I lean in, our lips finding each other once more, for the second time today. Like a puzzle, they fit together perfectly as they slowly and lightly move with each other.

I hope that answers her question.

* * *

**A/N: ...And there you have it. It was hell to write BUT it was fun. Let me be the first to say that I absolutely love Devyn. She's really fun to write. Although Devyn is all kinds of awesome, can I get a HELL YEAH for SANTARIA! Finally! **

**I hope you enjoy this update. Expect the next one soon. OH! And remember to follow and review. Shout out to Kcuffykidd96, unofficial beta!**

**(because kcuffykidd96 yelled at me for this...)**

**Songs used: **

**Ed Sheeran – Give me love**

**Evanescence - **_**My Immortal**_

**Adele – Make you feel my love**

**Stay gucci, **

**Syn92**

**(and if you ain't gucci you poochy)**


	11. Chapter 11

_**DISCLAIMER: Sadly, I don't own Glee or Pretty Little Liars (it would be awesome though). I don't own all of the characters but I DO own the majority of this story line.**_

* * *

_**Chapter Eleven**_

* * *

_**Aria POV**_

A loud beeping noise fills the room and pulls me out of a comfortable sleep. I blindly reach out to the bedside table and smack my hand around, attempting to find the unwelcome source of sound and quickly disarm it. There's a clatter as my swinging arm finally meets it's target and swats the stupid little alarm clock to the floor, effectively cutting it off.

Oh, blessed silence.

I lie in it for a minute, soaking up the relief, until I realize that there's really no relief at all. _Ouch, my head._ I swivel my legs over the edge and I sit up, groaning and clutching the sheets for balance as white dots dance before my eyes. My head is pounding and the wave of nausea that takes over my stomach is decidedly unpleasant.

How_ much_ did I drink last night?

On second thought, I don't really think I had that much to drink last night. It must've been all the crying. My head falls to my chest and I leave it there in dejected resignation, finding no energy or motivation to raise it again. As my line of view changes, I groan at the sight of last night's dress that I had somehow neglected to take off. It's lopsided now, and my left breast seems to have wanted to make a surprise appearance this morning.

I quickly and awkwardly pull up the difficult, ornery dress, and adjust myself, dredging up as much dignity as I can muster and taking in my surroundings; all of them are familiar but none of them are my own. My eyes widen at a sudden thought, and I shut them tightly before forcing myself to turn my head and confirm another, up until then forgotten, possibility. I look to the right side of the bed.

Empty.

Thank God. That would've been embarrassing.

Releasing the breath I'd been holding, I let my head fall again. Where has my life gone, if I'm actually checking the bed for strangers now? Isn't there some kind of rehab for this, And what time is it, anyway?

I drag my phone from the bedside table and onto my lap, and lazily trace the unlock pattern. **2:22 pm. **Well, it's not like I planned on going to class today anyway.

I stare blankly ahead of me for a few minutes and finally I smile. I'm not entirely sure what happened between Santana and I this morning, but I'm pretty sure that it was a step in the right direction.

At least I hope. Sighing in contentment, I flop back onto the bed.

_Ow ow ow! Shit, bad idea Aria. Throbbing head, remember?_

The bedroom door opens and in steps a tired- but still very hot- looking Santana. I can hear Rachel going on about something out in the apartment, but her voice is cut off once San shuts the door.

Once the door is shut, Santana releases the doorknob and slowly makes her way over to me. "Hi there, Sleeping Beauty." Her smirk falls into a goofy smile, and I grin up at her.

"Back at you, Helga." I lean away as she smacks my arm playfully, and I can't help but stare at her as she giggles.

And yes, world. I, Aria Elizabeth Montgomery, have made Santana Lopez GIGGLE. Come at me bro.

Anyway, as I was saying, I'm a staring fool. Even with the massive bedhead look she's got going on, she still looks beautiful. She takes a seat on the bed, making sure to keep a distance between us. So she's nervous. Well, I could tell that much. We stare at each other for a long moment. It's awkward, but not incredibly uncomfortable, so I guess that's good.

I can see Santana internally debating with herself, all of the gears turning in her head before finally a smile breaks through her features and she leans forward and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. It was chaste at most, but that doesn't stop the stupid grin that I can't suppress from appearing on my face.

"You hungry?" She asks. I just nod like an idiot, her voice barely making English words with any meaning to my ears, instead merely blending into the wonder-bubble of Santana I'm stuck in. "I figured we'd go out, get food, maybe talk." It's meant to be a statement but it's more of a question. She looks at me through hopeful eyes and I'm so transfixed that I can't bring myself to answer. Hell if I'm even sure what she asked me. "I mean if you want to. It's um-" She looks past me at the alarm clock lying discarded on the floor, "Almost three o'clock now. We could get a late lunch, early dinner, and try to figure out all of this..." She gestures between the two of us and trails off, noticing my distant stare. "You're not listening to a word I'm saying, Miss Montgomery."

I smile and nod like an idiot. Did she always have dimples? Santana chuckles and my smile illuminates. It's literally the best sound in the world.

"Or, we can just stay here for awhile. You're somewhere in Never Land, and I have a headache from hell." Santana suggests. She flops back on the bed beside me with a soft thud.

"Hangover?" I ask, finally regaining minimal control of my lolling tongue. _Good. Baby steps, Aria. Let's use big girl words._ She nods, groans, and rolls over, in that exact order. Deciding that maybe words aren't best right now, I settle for rubbing slow, soothing circles on her back, "How much did you drink last night?" I ask quietly after a while. Her response is a weak shoulder shrug, followed by a sigh.

"A lot? I dunno." She mumbles into the comforter. "I hurt. All over."

"Poor baby." I say quietly, mostly to myself, and I continue to rub her back as I watch it rise and fall contentedly. I wish this all wasn't so confusing.

See, with Ezra things were complicated. For starters we couldn't really be together. We were always hiding things, putting on false pretenses; after awhile things just got really hard, but that was okay, I could deal with hard. But then he lost his job, twice actually, and I think that's when everything truly went to hell. He blamed me. He said he didn't, but... I could feel it. Things weren't the same.

Time passed, and things gradually declined. Soon we weren't even able to relax and be ourselves around each other anymore, and it's not easy, nor comfortable, to live with your guards up 24/7. My parents eventually found out about us, that was yet another twist in the road, and together we found out that he had a son.

Long story short, his crazy mother paid the girl to keep quiet about the whole thing, and blah blah blah, drama, drama, drama. You could only imagine the hot mess that ensued when I- stupid dolt that I am- let _that_ secret slip. He began to distance himself from me even further, and I began to build the walls, mentally preparing myself for our inevitable break-up. That may be a terrible thing to say, but it's true. I knew it was coming.

Even so, in the end our break up still hurt just as bad. The walls weren't thick enough, they weren't strong enough, and they definitely weren't high enough, and when the floodgates of hell opened, my shabby, weak little dam burst.

I basically became catatonic. I kept to my room with the shades drawn, played the most depressing songs I could get ahold of, and- gross as it is- I barely showered. I was a mess. Luckily I had my friends to pull me through, and the promise of a brighter future on the other side of the country, far away from Ezra and his newfound "family".

Santana shuffles closer, bringing me out of my thoughts and back to the present, and rests her head on my thigh. As if on instinct, I ran my fingers through her thick, dark waves of hair. She hums, and from her new position, I can clearly see her ribs moving with her breathing. "Hey, you." I say, propping myself on an elbow. "When's the last time you ate?"

"Um... I don't know Aria." She whines, obviously not wanting to discuss it. I remain silent, waiting for an answer, and finally she groans and rolls over to face me. "Maybe yesterday? Before I went to the club?"

"Santana!" I scold, and she rolls her eyes and flops back over. God, she's adorable. I couldn't be mad if I wanted to. I don't even know what we are yet, and I'm already whipped. Damn. "Well are you hungry?"

"Kinda, but right now let's just stay here. This is nice. Just me and you-" She doesn't get to finish her sentence because her cellphone begins to ring. "-and apparently Devyn." She picks up her phone. "What?"

I tap her shoulder for her to sit up and point to the door. I feel like I'm imposing on whatever it is the two are about to talk about. As much as I'd love to stay here, in this position with Santana, it's awkward to be on the outside of the conversation, and I honestly don't even want to know. She nods in understanding but as soon as I stand, I'm pulled back down and I'm ambushed with a quick kiss on the lips. She releases me, and I shuffle like a zombie to the door, bursting with giddiness on the inside.

Hey. Not like I'm complaining or anything.

I return minutes later (I didn't want to stay in the bathroom to long. I didn't want her to think that I was pooping or anything). Santana has her back to the headboard and is flipping through channels and holding her head. I smile and offer her two Advil from the cabinet and a Dixie cup full of water. "I figured you'd need these."

"Thank you." She smiles appreciatively. "So I'm having a hard time deciding between 'Tom and Jerry' and 'Rugrats'. They're both on, and-" She begins.

"Duh! Rugrats." I say enthusiastically. Come on. 'Tom and Jerry' is awesome and all, but like... 'Rugrats' is... well... it's just 'Rugrats'. It _has_ no competition.

"Okay then, I guess we're watching 'Rugrats'." She looks to me, " I mean if that's cool with you. I was just hoping we could relax for a couple of hours before we go scavenge for food that we definitely don't have in the apartment. Kurt and Emily _forgot_-" She uses air quotes, "to go grocery shopping. We could go out though." She smiles. My treat..."

"Trying to butter me up now are we?"

"Nah, I save that for the fourth date." She turns to the TV with a smirk.

"Who said you even got a first date?" I joke.

"Ouch, burn!" She laughs. "Oh shit, Angelica! That's my bitch!" And just like that Santana's self-diagnosed A.D.D. takes over. I scoot closer and smile as she takes me under her arm.

God, I've missed this.

X

A couple hours later finds us standing outside of Joe's Diner. My hair is wildly thrown all over the place thanks to Santana's motorcycle. How I let her convince me to ride that thing I will never know. Okay, I'm totally lying. I know exactly what it was. It was a pouting Santana that had me jumping on the bike and clinging for dear life the whole ride here.

We walk through the doors, and as I try in vain to fix my hopeless mess of hair, a couple of people greet San from behind the counter. "Hey!" Santana replies- rather excitedly for a woman with the remnants of a hangover still lurking- and we make our way to a table in the back.

"Friends of yours?" I point behind me to the kitchen area, and she nods.

"You could say that. I had a lot of down time. Y'know with you ignoring me and everything." She says it playfully but I can't help the small wave of guilt that washes over me. "Aria, I was kidding. It happened, you came back, hell you kissed me. A couple of times." She smiles at the thought. "It was awesome. The fight or whatever it was is over."

"I know you don't want to hear it but..." I sigh and scuff my sneaker around below the table. "I'm really sorry. I'm sorry for overreacting and making you cry. I'm-"

"Woah! I didn't cry." She interrupts. "Santana Diabla Lopez does not cry."

A small laugh escapes me, and I stare at her incredulously. "Diabla? Santana, your middle name is Maria."

"You have no proof."

"Um... Brittany, Quinn, your yearbook."

"How dare they feed you lies!" She pretends to be offended.

The waitress comes over to take our orders and I've been so caught up in staring at Santana like a creeper that I didn't even get a chance to look at the menu. I fumble with the laminated sheet, causing both her and the waitress to laugh, before Santana gently places her hand on mine to calm me down. Santana places our orders- Oh God; she remembered I'm a vegetarian! Cue fangirling- and we fall into in a light conversation. Our food arrives and all is well until I see Santana mix mayonnaise and ketchup together and proceed to dip her fries into it. I pull a face of disgust just as Santana lifts three fries to her mouth. She pauses, and looks at me dangerously.

"Got something to say 'bout my fries, girl?"

"Nope, Nope. Nothing at all." I say, sipping my milkshake and glancing around innocently, trying to avoid her eyes for dear life.

"MmHmm..." She purses her lips, looking me over. Setting her fries down, she pulls a clean one from the basket and dips it in the sauce and holds it up to me. "Try one, Ar." She says teasingly.

My face twists involuntarily, and I shake my head dramatically. "Uh-Uh. That's okay. You go ahead."

"Take the fry, Aria."

Well, what can I say to that? She lifts the fry to my face, and the smell alone is strong, but she's looking at me with those eyes, and I don't really have a choice. Hesitantly, I lean in. She quirks her eyebrow, bringing the fry to my mouth but I refuse to open it, I have to wrap my mind around the fact of what I'm about to do. I can smell the sauce from where I'm sitting and it's really, kind of funky. The smell of ketchup has always kind of turned my stomach, so the fact that it's mixed with mayonnaise doesn't really excite me.

I'm face to face with the fry and I can't bring my self to open my mouth. She smiles and inches the fry closer and closer to my face. Just when I'm about to relent and open up for the choo-choo train, she twists her hand and quickly swipes it across my mouth, smearing ketchup-aise all over my mouth and chin and surprising the hell out of me.

Regardless, I muster up my best fake smile to mask my surprise, and look down at the table. She's watching me. I'll play her game. I pick up a particularly long, crispy French fry from the basket and dip it in the concoction on my face. She anxiously waits for my next move, and so I pause, torturing her a bit as payback for the sauce attack. I finally eat the damn fry. Well damn. It's actually not all bad.

"Survey says...?" she asks in her best game show host voice.

"Disgusting." I shoot her a wink and grab a couple more fries to dip in the sauce.

"You've got a little something... there." She points at my mouth with a stupid grin, and I cock my head.

"Yeah? I wonder why."

X

Dinner was amazing... Well minus the fact that Santana and I fought over the check; her argument was that she asked me out tonight and that I could get the next one. She then put the 'argument' on hold (Like literally shushed me) and proceeded to pretend she was going to the bathroom before walking to the register to take care of the bill.

So here we are again, walking along the beach. Each sinking step in the cool, gritty sand reminds me of the first time we were here together. Now, It's almost like everything that has happened between us is forgotten and we're back to where we were weeks ago.

Almost.

We're standing a few feet apart. I don't know what to do with my arms or hands, so I'm awkwardly hugging myself. Thank goodness for the slight chill in the air, otherwise I'd look like a complete fool.

"Are you cold?" Before I get a chance to answer, Santana is draping her jacket over my shoulders. Damn. Cover blown. I give her an appreciative smile as I awkwardly drop my hands to my sides, and she nods and shoves her hands into the pockets of her jeans. "I guess we should uh... talk." She sets herself down in the sands and pats the spot beside her.

I sit next to her, but we don't talk at first. We just watch the beach. The big white moon cats an eerie glow over the sand, making it almost glow, and the dark water reflects its prefect circle like a mirror. It almost feels like there's two of the world, looking at it. But then I look at the sky and see nothing but twinkling stars, and it reminds me that there's only one pair of us, and I know why we're here.

"I'm sorry." I say after awhile. She lets out a low breathy chuckle.

"You've said that already." She laughs quietly, and the irony is left there to sit. No one grabs it. "I'm just confused, Aria." She says finally, turning to face me. "Like really, really confused."

"About what?" I ask only for lack of a better response. I already know 'about what'.

I kind of wish I didn't.

"About you, about me, about us, about the kiss, and about a lot of other things too. You said you want me and I know for damn sure that I want you but what does that mean? Where do we go from here?"

I shrug. "I'm not even sure I'm gay."

"Well, maybe you're not gay. Maybe you're just... gay for 'Tana." A goofy smile crosses her face and I can't help but smile too. God, why is she so damn cute? "Yeah... Devyn laughed at me when I said that too." She trails off awkwardly.

Ugh... Devyn. I roll my eyes, but quickly get my emotions in check before Santana sees. By the smirk that she's sending me, I know it's too late. I divert my attention to the ocean. I stare out blankly, and finally phrase my question. "How did_ you_ know?"

"How did I know what? That you're gay for 'Tana? Well, duh! I mean, how could you not be?" She jokes. "But I guess you already know that. I'm irresistible." She shrugs. This goof is on a roll tonight. She looks at me, and sighs at my serious expression. "What you're really asking is 'how did I know I was gay'?"

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I mean-" She waves me off.

"If you repeat this, I swear I'll deny it all." She gives me a pointed look. In the back of my mind I wonder if this is going to be a serious story or if it's going to be one of her sarcastic adaptations, but I sink back in the sand nonetheless and bury my chin in my knees. "I was that girl in school that slept around." She begins, staring up at the sky. "But after awhile, the sleeping around got old... ya know?" She looks over at me, questioning, and I nod even though I have no clue what she's taking about. "I realized eventually that I didn't want to be that girl anymore. I didn't want to be just an easy fuck. One day I was hanging out with a friend, one thing led to another, studying turned into making out, making out turned into first base, and then we hit all of the bases until we got a home run. It felt right, not just the um... intimacy..." She squints her eyes and scrunches her nose "-but everything. I saw the light... and the light was definitely rainbow colored." She laughs.

"What happened after you and your friend slept together?" I don't mean to be nosy, but that can't be the end of the story.

"We kept seeing each other behind everyone's back. Deep down I knew that she'd never want me the way that I wanted her but eventually we ended up seeing each other exclusively, after I was forced out of the closet. That's a story for another time." She added, noticing when I turn my head to look at her questioningly. 'Well, long story short, things got complicated, girlie decided she preferred wheels over cartwheels, and we decided we worked better as friends. The End."

"I like you, Santana. I like you a lot, okay? But I'm scared. It's scary." I blurt out, not even deciding to comment on the story because I know she wouldn't want to talk about it.

"And you think I'm not?" She looks at me incredulously and grabs my hand. "Pshh, I'm terrified." She stands, and I follow suit, brushing the sand from my shorts and turning to look up at her. Stepping closer, she takes both of my hands in hers, but she's smirking, and I don't know what that means. Hell, I never do. "It took me by surprise, the kiss. I didn't know the feeling was mutual or what ever. I just knew that I wanted to get to know you, even if we'd never be more than friends." She leaves the ending open, for me to fill, but I'm at a loss for words. "So now what?" She sways in the light breeze and smiles at me.

"I don't know." Well, obviously Aria. Good one.

Once again, for the umpteenth time tonight, we fall silent. It feels like forever since we've had such a peaceful air between us. I love this.

"Let's try this. Try us?" Her voice cuts through the silence suddenly, and my mouth drops. Did she just say what I think she said?

She's been shuffling uncomfortably since she's asked. I guess I should say something. Anything. Everything.

"Mmmrph." It falls out before I have a chance to stop it. I don't even know what I said. I'm not even sure that's a word. Hopefully she didn't hear me. I scan her boady from the ground up until I meet her eyes and CRAP! She heard it.

"What?"

"Yes." I replace, shaking my head and laughing. "Let's try this. I want to try this."

"Even when it's scary?" She asks, and her eyes are watering. That means a lot, even though I know she'll deny it later.

"You can fight the monsters for me then." I whisper with a small smile. She purses her lips, and I see her tears fall just before she pulls me into a tight hug. I lean into the embrace and sigh. I'm beginning to like this, her holding me. It's nice. I rest my head on her shoulder and we watch the ocean.

* * *

**A/N: If you follow me on twitter (synful92) then you guys know that I'm going to buckle down on writing to get chapters kicked out every couple of days instead of every couple of weeks. In saying that, I'm leaving for Georgia tonight and I'll be there for two weeks without wi-fi and sadly, without my beta. So, it might be a while. Have no fear... throughout the 'vacation' I'm going to stick with my writing and when I get back you guys will have a couple of chapters. I don't know how far I'm going to take this story, I have a few plans up my sleeves, but I'll keep writing until you guys don't want me anymore. Haha. **

**Until next time, **

**Syn92**


	12. Chapter 12

_**DISCLAIMER: Sadly, I don't own Glee or Pretty Little Liars (it would be awesome though). I don't own all of the characters but I DO own the majority of this story line.**_

* * *

_**Chapter Twelve**_

* * *

_**Santana POV**_

"So, explain to me again what happened?"

_Holy fuck, child, again?_

Devyn just looks at me- wide-eyed and frustrated- and gestures with her hand as if she's telling me to continue. Well. I'm frustrated too. Take a number and get in line Honey Boo Boo. Like, It seriously feels like I'm talking to a bag of rocks. I've already explained this to her multiple times. But does she listen? Does she comprehend? _Noooo._

Apparently despite being smoking hot, Devyn has some sort of learning deficiency.

Well, we can't have it all.

I sigh and place my hands between my knees, bending slightly and speaking in short, clear words as though I were speaking to a kindergartener. "I _told_ you. We talked, and now we're kind of together. Do you know what _together_ means little Devy-Wevy? Huh? Do ya? Do ya?" I pinch her cheeks and shake her head side to side in the most babyish, annoying way possible.

Devyn just rolls her eyes and slaps my hand away. She levels her evil-eyed glare on me, and I step back. "What?" I ask defensively, crossing my arms.

"I know what together means, Santana. But what do you mean 'kind of'?"

_On_ and_ on_ with the questions, ugh kill me. "Shut up now Devyn."

"But-"

I place my finger on my lips and shake my head, and she throws her hands up in frustration.

Honestly? It's a good question. And even more honestly? I don't even _know_ how to explain. Which, I admit, is the real reason I'm shushing her. How can I make her understand something that doesn't even make sense to me?

I mean Aria and I are together; this is something I am certain of. But we've decided that we were going to take things slow. I'm not sure how Aria defines 'slow', but to me it feels like we're moving at a snails pace. But that's not necessarily bad. We've only been together for about a week and a half, and besides: there's nothing wrong with being a little cautious, right_?_ Look at Brittany and I, for example. We rushed things, and that relationship crashed and burned faster than Janet Jackson's peepshow outfit at the Superbowl halftime show. But _anyway.._..

"It means... that I don't want to rush things and either does she." I say rationally, as though that answers anything more than what I'd told her before.

Ha. Who am I kidding? If nothing else, this girl is relentless. She won't stop until I give her _everything_ she wants to know, down to the fingerprints and Social Security Numbers.

"And that means? Come on San, you have to give me more than that?" She looks to me with puppy-dog eyes, and I say nothing. I mean, how the hell should I know? We've barely been together 2 weeks, and here I am: already psyching myself out about things.

And _Devyn_ certainly isn't helping.

"I've been afraid to even go near her, Devyn. Yes, I said it. Santana Lopez is afraid. And do you know why? Because I'm fucking _terrified_ that she'll run away again. There I said it. Happy now?" I say, my bitchy tone being muted and swallowed whole by the pathetic little punk in me.

"Damn."

"What?" I scowl.

"I just didn't' think that you'd be this whipped in such a short amount of time." She laughs.

I'm glad she's enjoying this. Yippee! Wepa! Hallelujah and Mazel Tov! Let's all get out the confetti and dreidels and sing Kumbaya while I light the menorah. Invite the whole damn world to see Santana fold like a little bitch.

Devyn dodges the crumbled straw paper I shoot at her face. "This may be hard to believe, seeing as though you're kind of an idiot-" I interrupt her to introduce her to my middle finger, "-but normal people usually talk about their problems."

"And what the fuck do you call this?" I gesture around. "We're talking right now, aren't we?"

"Barely. But that's not what I meant. Not with me. Talk with your girlfriend, genius."

I lift my cup up to my mouth and take a couple of sips. Mostly to stall because it's been decided: talking to this girl is exactly what I'd imagine talking to a bag of rocks would be like. Only the rocks would be more helpful.

"She's not my girlfriend." I mumble lamely, for lack of better words.

Devyn's phone buzzes and she gets pulled into her own little texting universe, leaving me to sulk, wallowing in my ornery, stubborn misery. I think this must be what people define as "acting like a brat". I kind of like it.

"Gotcha," she says absently as she quickly swipes a response. Her eyes brighten, as does her stupid, crooked smile.

"Who's that?" I ask begrudgingly, not lifting my pout. She lifts her head and shrugs.

"A friend. Rachel." It falls out like it's nothing, just as I intake a mouthful of coffee. I instantly choke and it comes flying out everywhere, from my nose, my mouth: everywhere. She drops her phone and frantically pats my back as I reach for the stack of napkins in front of her.

The small coffee shop goes silent and through my teary eyes I see people glancing our way. I flip them all off weakly with my flailing hand while I cough and sputter, and Devyn slaps my hand down.

"Santana!" She scolds.

"Eh, nosy bitches. Irrelevant." I dismiss that with a wave of my hand as she tries to smile appealingly at the other patrons and return their attention to their meals. After a short bout of clearing my throat like a habitual smoker, I can finally breathe like a normal person, but my nose and eyes are still stinging. "Rachel who, Devyn? _My_ Rachel? As in Rachel _Berry_?" I ask, and she looks at me baffled.

"If you must know, yes, her last name is Berry." She chuckles like it's obvious. "And more importantly, what the hell do you mean, YOUR Rachel?"

She eyes me for a couple of seconds, and I glance around in mock casual distraction before I shrug and put my hands up in defense, "Nothing, nothing. I just didn't know that you were into hobbits." I stand and begin to gather my things. "Look, I gotta go." She shoots me a questioning look, "I have class soon and I wanted to grab something for Aria to eat before I head out." She nods and takes a sip of her drink.

"That 'hobbit' is your friend, Santana." She reminds me.

I laugh, "I know. Hence, our _friendship_." I throw my khaki canvas messenger bag over my shoulder and begin to make my way to the front counter. "And F-Y-I, She doesn't speak the vagina monologues." I call over my shoulder.

Devyn's shoulders bounce up and down, and her smile is full of amusement as she pretends that I've just said the most hilarious thing she's ever heard. Suddenly, her face goes blank and she gives me the finger. I pretend to catch it and shove it in my jacket pocket before quickly turning to the task at hand.

"Tell you girlfriend I say 'hello'! Ya know, the one you don't speak to!" She shouts after me.

X

I walk into class, almond croissant and _venti_ caramel macchiato in hand, and make my way to my seat. Halfway there though, my legs lock up and my whole body kind of tenses. Nip/Tuck Barbie is hovering over Aria like an excited puppy, and if I said that I'm not jealous, the good lord would strike me down right where I'm standing.

I've always been the jealous type. That's never going to change. In fact, I wouldn't even go as far as calling myself jealous. Oh no, I'd say that I was... caring. Yeah, that's it. I'm a_ caring_ person.

Yep. I'd sure _care_ to twist one of his shiny wax-sculpted model nipples in a can opener. That'd be fun.

Brody must've said something "funny" because Aria's laughter rings through the near silent classroom and he's hunched over holding his stomach. Everyone is so wrapped up in there own little technological world that they don't even notice, or care for that matter.

I saunter over to the pair, HBIC face and walk in full effect. The few people in the center aisle desperately jump out of my way. Aria eyes light up as I approach. I wave to her, she returns the gesture and shyly ducks her head, hiding her adorably cheesy smile. She meets my eyes once more and I hold up the small pastry bag, a cool smirk reciprocating the smile she wore only seconds before.

"Brody," I deadpan. There's no need for pleasantries. It's early and I don't like this dude. It's as simple as that.

"Santana." He replies using a similar tone. I chuckle. Glad to know that the feeling is mutual.

I slide past Brody, making sure to give him a menacing glare. His body tenses and he swallows thickly, and I can't help but let a wry smile cross my lips because the old girl's still got it.

People still run and hide when they see me coming. That, people, is the most amazing feeling in the world. It's like high school all over again- only better. Throw in that instead of Finn I have Brody, and it's an almost prefect cup of tea.

Except I don't drink no damn tea.

Because... I'm a real thug.

Yeah... Well, sorta...

I prefer orange juice.

Anyway, that alone is enough to want Frankenteen back. I couldn't stand Finn (Hey, I have my reasons.) but I absolutely loath Brody. Like, to the point where I can sweat out my perm- and _**not**_ in the good way- just thinking about his existence.

I slip into my seat next to a smiling, yet very tired, Aria. We're still taking things slow and she's obviously still not out to anyone yet, so I have to fight the urge to lean over and kiss her on the cheek. Her sloppy ponytail and adorable, sleepy eyes aren't doing much to help said urge.

I slide the pastry and coffee across her desk to her and she smiles appreciatively. "Oh my god, 'Tana! You are the best! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" She beams and I nod. I can't help the chuckle that escapes me, nor do I want to.

"Hear that people? **I'm** the best." I say loudly, staring meaningfully in Brody's direction. A few people glance up with minimal interest, and one guy actually gives me a thumbs up, but for the most part my comment goes unnoticed. I don't even have to look up to see that the person I'd intended it for, however, does notice, and watching him turn red with discomfort from the corner of my eye gives me more joy than a Mexican hat dance.

Aria just shakes her head in amusement as she spins her cup around a couple of times, trying to find out what it is exactly that I got her. "Soy caramel macchiato and almond croissant," I speak up. "I didn't know what you might like, so I hope that's okay. You're not allergic to nuts, are you?" My voice rises a bit and my eyebrow rises in slight worry.

"It's perfect." She smiles and takes a sip before offering the cup to me, which I gladly accept. It's not bad, although I do prefer my drinks iced to cool my hot Latin blood. You know how it is.

I look up and Brody is still hovering over us. Creep. "Can we help you?" He crosses his arms but says nothing. He looks like he's sizing me up. I thought only smart people got into college? Obviously not, if Brody thinks he has a chance of stepping to the princess of Lima Heights Adjacent. I ran that shit.

I'll try an alternate approach. "Look man, class is about to start, and it would be really cool if we-" I point between Aria and myself, "-didn't have to breathe in the excessive amount of Axe body spray you're sporting." He opens his mouth, and I shush him, shaking my head. "Uh-uh, Powder Puff. No. I can smell the cold cream from here. Bye bye now. Thanks." I shoo him away, and he stalks off to his seat, mumbling things under his breath.

Aria's mouth drops and she smacks my shoulder. "OW! What the hell was that for?" I say through gritted teeth. She motions to Abercrombie in the front of the classroom.

"What do you mean 'what was that for'? Apologize." She can't be serious. I study her for a couple of seconds and... Damn. She's serious. That doesn't mean I'm going to apologize though. Nope. I'm not about that life

"That hurt Aria." An unwanted pout fills my features and I rub my (probably now bruised) shoulder.

Okay... maybe I'm exaggerating. But still. It _did_ hurt.

Rachel walks in wearing a thin grey sweater, a pair of black skinny jeans, and original black converse. High-tops. I must say college has done her good. I mean kind of. She still sometimes wears her high school 'classics' but Hanna has been helping her amp up her wardrobe just like Mercedes has been helping out Spencer. All the thanks go to them because I thought those two- Spencer and Rachel, that is- were lost causes.

Rachel's eyes quickly glance up from her phone to scan the half empty room before they're drawn back to the screen that is about three inches away from her face. She thoughtlessly slides into a seat in the front of the room, the seat that had been Aria's only weeks prior.

The professor rolls through the door 15 minutes late and tries to jump right into the half assed lesson he had planned. I laugh to myself and roll my eyes. He reminds me of Mr. Shue, only an older, and less attractive version. Plus, I doubt he has Mr. Shue's 'mad rapping skills'.

I pull up my Internet browser and it's like I'm on autopilot or something. I end up on Facebook. I'm scrolling through my feed and just my luck, Facebook is as dead as this class. Zero notifications and nothing remotely interesting going on.

I go back to pretending that I'm paying attention to the useless lesson that Professor Lemon Lips has 'prepared' for us today but it's of no use. I hear a small pop and look down at the screen. Rachel chatted me. _Great._

_**Rachel Barbra Berry**_

_Good afternoon, Santana. How are you?_

_**Santana LWordLife Lopez**_

_Just say 'What's up?' Like a normal person, Berry._

_**Rachel Barbra Berry**_

_As you wish. _

_**Rachel Barbra Berry**_

_Good afternoon, Santana. What is up?_

_**Santana LWordLife Lopez**_

_Smh. Wooooow._

_**Rachel Barbra Berry**_

_So?_

_**Santana LWordLife Lopez**_

_So what?_

_**Rachel Barbra Berry**_

_How are you?_

_**Santana LWordLife Lopez**_

_I'm SUPER! How aren't you?_

_**Rachel Barbra Berry**_

_You're sarcasm is greatly unappreciated but I will play along. I am splendid._

_**Santana LWordLife Lopez**_

_Is there something that you wanted, Berry? I ain't gots all day._

There isn't an immediate response but I'm not the least bit worried. I mean it's only Berry after all. I look to my left and Aria is wiping the line of coffee that's running down her chin. I try to cover my laugh but she shoots me a glare, as do the people sitting around us, and then laughs and tries to wipe away the mess. "Shut up," she blushes.

I reach over and use the pad of my thumb to wipe away the excess that she missed. I bring my thumb to my mouth and suck the coffee off it without a second thought. It's only when Aria stares at me in amusement that I begin to second-guess my actions. "Santana! Ew."

"What?" I whisper defensively. I mean it's not like I haven't kissed her before.

Another pop is heard and I turn around to see what Berry has to say.

_**Rachel Barbra Berry**_

_Your girlfriend is hilarious. Laughing out loud!_

I look over to Aria and smile. Yes, she is. Wait, my girlfriend?! How does she know about my girlfriend? We're not even officially together, together yet.

_**Santana LWordLife Lopez**_

_Huh? What do you mean? My girlfriend? I don't have a girlfriend._

I nudge Aria and point to my computer screen. She leans over and reads over our conversation. She tenses when she nears the end. She looks very uneasy, like she's just been caught.

_**Rachel Barbra Berry**_

_Yeah! Devyn. Laughing out loud! She's hilarious._

Aria let's out a low breath of relief, as do I. I'm out and proud, so I don't care, but she's not, and so I have t protect that. I know how hard it is when someone knows something about you that you're not ready to share. I know what it's like to be pushed out of the closet when you're not ready. I don't want her to go through what I went through in high school. Shit's not cool.

_**Santana LWordLife Lopez**_

_Devyn?_

The thought of Devyn and I being together is so ridiculous that I don't even want to humor the idea. I mean seriously, what drugs is Rachel on? Another pop sounds from my computer and I roll my eyes expecting Rachel to have provided me with one of her over the top, long ass explanations. Only, It's not Rachel.

_**Aria Montgomery**_

_Blah._

_**Santana LWordLife Lopez**_

_Well, hello to you too. Lol_

_**Aria Montgomery**_

_I'm bored._

_**Santana LWordLife Lopez**_

_Really? I can't tell. _

And then

_Wanna play a game?_

I mean, what else is there to do? There's only a couple of days left before fall break, this class is dragging on and on, and well, I'm bored too.

_**Aria Montgomery**_

_What do you suggest Miss. Lopez?_

_**Santana LWordLife Lopez**_

_Um..._

Damn. I really should of thought this one through.

_What about... Truth or dare?_

_**Aria Montgomery**_

_I dunno. How would we do the dares? _

Before I can even respond to Aria, I get a reply from Rachel. It's not in her usual explanatory paragraph form that I've grown accustomed to, thank goodness, but the fact that she still manages to remain so Berry like in text is still annoying.

_**Rachel Barbra Berry**_

_Yes, Devyn. Silly. She is such a delight to text with. Like I've said, she's very funny._

_**Santana LWordLife Lopez**_

_..._

I don't even know how to reply to that. I mean what would give her the impression that Devyn and I were together? That's ridiculous. My eyes travel from my screen tot the front of the room where Berry is smiling brightly and giving me two thumbs up.

_**Santana LWordLife Lopez**_

_Speaking of... My girl, I'm actually talking to her right now. So... I'll hit you up after class Berry cakes. ;)_

Might as well play along I guess? It's not like Rachel will believe me if I told her that she's wrong because according to her she's never wrong. She's very stubborn, very, very stubborn. Always has been and always will be.

The lights cut on and the projector shuts off. "Alright class, I think that's a good place to stop. I'm letting you guys go early today. Please don't make me regret it and PLEASE," he emphasizes, "Don't let me catch you on the campus television's version of FOX Network's Cops tonight. Oh! And before I forget... Don't bother showing up for class on Friday. Not that any of you were planning on being present anyway seeing as though fall break starts Monday." The class cheers. "Yeah. Yeah. Have a good one guys!"

"Well we tried." I say to Aria as we pack up our things. "Was it just me or did that class seem more awful than usual? I mean, I thought it would never end." I sling my backpack over my shoulder. Rachel is standing by the door talking animatedly to Brody. She's probably talking about Barbra or Broadway, I can tell by the way her arms are flailing all over the place and the fact that she hasn't taken a breath since she began to speak. Gotta love her.

"Pshh, it was shorter than usual San. Stop your complaining." Aria laughs.

"Hey, so I was wondering... What are you doing tonight? I thought maybe we could you know hang out, order in, maybe watch a movie." I ask hopeful.

"Well, my next class got cancelled-." She stalls. I know there's a 'but' coming up soon. I can feel it. "But, I kind of already made plans with Brody." She bites her bottom lip nervously.

"Oh. OH! Gotcha. It's cool. I'll just head back and hang with Emily or Kurt or someone. No biggie." I try not to sound too disappointed. The sad smile on my face probably says otherwise. So she's ditching me for the walking Pledge Man. Who cares? Yeah we're together. So what? That doesn't mean that we have to spend every waking second together. I refuse to be that couple- or that _person,_ for that matter.

"Afterwards though I'll definitely be over." Her smile grows. "Sound good?"

"Sounds good." I breathe out. The class is near empty aside from the stoners in the back, and the professor was the first one out of the room. Rachel is still talking Brody's ear off, and Aria is shuffling nervously where she's standing. Out of nowhere, I "stumble" into Aria. ;) I'm pulled into a hug. A small smile crosses my lips as I relax into Aria's embrace. Not to be a weirdo or anything but I inhale Aria's light, summer-like fragrance. "Text me when you're about to come over. That way I can put away my porn and shuffle all of the other girls I'm trying to charm out of the apartment." She laughs and pulls away.

"I'll see you later." We're nearing the door.

Brody releases a visible sigh of relief once Rachel stops talking. I scoff. Welcome to the last four years of my life buddy. If he thinks this is bad he'd be glad that he didn't know William McKinley High Berry. She was a talker. Not that anyone listened but still.

Our group splits, Rachel and I one way, Aria and Brody the complete opposite. I look back at Aria's retreating form and sigh. "You okay?" I hear Rachel ask from beside me. I nod but my eyes never leave the two that are walking away.

As if she senses my eyes on her, Aria turns around and blows me a kiss. Goofball. A small smile tugs on my mouth, but falters as soon as she clears the corner. I clear my throat and tug my leather jacket in place. Now is not the time to look like a lovesick puppy. I have a reputation to uphold.

Rachel is eying me and I'm sure she's wearing her 'I know something is up' smirk but I refuse to look in her direction. Nope, not falling into that trap. My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and it's exactly who I thought it'd be.

_**Incoming: Devyn S. (1:45 pm)**_

_Feel like hanging?_

_**To: Devyn S. (1:47 pm)**_

_Sure. Whatever. _

_**Incoming: Devyn S. (1:47 pm)**_

_Yours? Or Mine?_

_**To: Devyn S. (1:49 pm)**_

_Doesn't matter._

_**To: Devyn S. (1:49 pm)**_

_Actually... mine. My place actually has food. Haha_

_**Incoming: Devyn S. (1:50 pm)**_

_That was one time and I told you... you know what, never mind. Um... Quick question?_

_**To: Devyn S. (1:53 pm)**_

_Yeah?_

Devyn doesn't respond right away, but I already know what her question is. I look over to Rachel and laugh. If only she knew that she had Devyn wrapped around her little midget finger.

_**Incoming: Devyn S. (1:59 pm)**_

_Rachel's going to be there... right?_

Bingo.

_**To: Devyn S. (2:01 pm)**_

_Seeing as though we live together... it's inevitable._

_**To: Devyn S. (2:01 pm)**_

_Ya like how I threw that big word in there? _

_**Incoming: Devyn S. (2:06pm)**_

_Glad you managed to learn something. Lol. It was a shame to see all the empty space floating around in that giant Jimmy Neutron sized head of yours._

_**To: Devyn S. (2:09 pm)**_

_..._

_**To: Devyn S. (2:09pm)**_

_Fuck you! Lol_

_**Incoming: Devyn S. (2:10pm)**_

_Nah... we tried that remember ;)_

_**To: Devyn S. (2:12pm)**_

_Hilarious._

X

The door clicks as I turn the knob, and Rachel and I step inside. I hang my keys on the hook and push my way further into the apartment. Rachel kick off her shoes and neatly sets them by the door. I do the same, only I kick them wildly and they land somewhere behind me. An annoyed huff escapes Rachel as she clicks on the light and neatly sets my shoes next to hers.

"Thanks." I say absently. Damn Rachel and her no shoes in the house rule.

"You hungry? I could make us lunch." She looks down at her watch. "Everyone else is in class I presume. We went grocery shopping not too long ago, the other day in fact, so the refrigerator is fully stocked."

"Thanks Rachel. I can't let you do that though. Women's rights or some shit." Her face drops and she turns to walk further in the apartment and towards the kitchen I'd assume. "But... would it be cool if I helped you with lunch?"

She looks appalled, like I said the worst possible thing ever. I mean I know I'm not Iron Chef but I'd like to think that I do have at least some skills in the kitchen. Hell, no one has ever complained before. "What?" I snap.

"Well... I- I- I'm at a loss for words."

"That's a first." I grumble.

"You called me Rachel." She smiles.

"Well, that's your name isn't it?" I automatically go into the defensive. Her eyes are soft and her mouth is hung open. "Hey there Trapdoor, you're catching fli-." The air is knocked from my lungs and I'm being held in Rachel's vice grip. She smells nothing like Aria. If I had to put a smell to the small diva, it'd be... pumpkin and spice.

But that's strange.

"You called me Rachel." She repeats. Enough is enough, I pry Rachel's small frame from my body and awkwardly pat her shoulder. She straightens her sweater and clears her throat. The sound of my stomach growling kills the awkward silence. "Okay then. Your stomach has spoken," she laughs. "Let's go take care of that." She points to my belly and turns to leave and I follow closely behind.

After a couple of steps I nearly knock her over. I run right into her back. "Ow! What the hell Berry?!" I say through gritted teeth.

She shushes me and I glare. "Look." She whispers. She brings her small hands to my face and slowly turns my head to the scene in front of us, Quinn an Emily soiling my couch. Our couch. The couch. Whatever.

There they are, stripped to the underwear- someone's been shopping at Victoria's Secret. Quinn is hovering over Emily, her tongue shoved so far down her throat that it would make a doctor blush.

I yelp in surprise and trip over one of Emily's discarded heels, tumbling to the floor with a squeak. When I pull myself back up to my knees, Quinn and Emily have both jumped up from the couch. They're standing guiltily apart from each other, feigning nonchalance as though they were just two innocent business partners discussing boring old building plans over coffee and biscuits, and just happened to be in their lingerie.

Nope. They got caught in the act, and I will personally not let them live this down. I mean I knew there was a little something something going on between them at the club. Y'know with all the dancing and hand holding, and the fact that the two were practically inseparable the whole night but I didn't think too much of it. Me and Aria do that sort of thing all the time- or we did, not that night but before. I just chalked it up to me being drunk off my ass. Thought I was seeing things.

"Oh. My. God." Emily mumbles under her breath, her eyes never leaving the floor. Well if I thought today couldn't any more awkward...

"Well Shit!" I exclaim. Rachel is silent once again; her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open.

"We can explain!" Quinn jumps up and charges toward me. "It's um... It's not what it looks like..." She trails off and looks back and forth between Emily and me. "Emily, babe, are you okay?" Emily nods and looks back to the ground.

"Is this real life? When did this happen? How did this happen? _What_ is happening?" All the questions rush out of Rachel at once.

"So, this is like a real thing? You two?" I point to the embarrassed pair. They both nod. I shrug and push my way past the group to the kitchen. "Okay."

"Okay? That's it?" Quinn follows me into the kitchen, tugging on her cardigan as she goes. I shrug and scan the kitchen cupboards for lunch.

"Hey Rachel, you feel like having pasta? Or salad?" I yell over my shoulder. "Vegan friendly!" She says something that sounds like "both" in agreement back and I pull out the boxes and set them on the granite countertop. I turn to Quinn, "You hungry, or was Emily's tongue enough for ya?" I wiggle my eyebrows and she blushes profusely.

"Really San? Really?" She dips her head.

"Oh come on, Q! Why so shy all of the sudden? Back in high school you would have been bragging your not so white girl ass off." I laugh.

"Not so white girl ass?" She inquires.

"You don't have a white girls ass." I shrug.

"And you know this how? You've looked at my ass?" Quinn looks at me, flustered, as she pulls up her jeans self-consciously.

"You have a nice ass." I shrug. "And hello? Gay." I point to myself and search for a pot to put the pasta's water in. "Also," I spin to look at Quinn, "Coach Sylvester's cheerios uniforms left nothing to the imagination. Big thanks to the pervert who created those damn skirts."

Quinn rolls her eyes and grabs a water bottle from the fridge before positioning herself on the counter top. The kitchen falls silent as I begin working on lunch. The water boils, the pasta's thrown in, and I begin to pull out all the things for the salad. In bounces Rachel and she puts a stop to my preparation. "I've got it."

No use in arguing. Emily steps into the kitchen shortly after, also fully-clothed now, and situates herself in Quinn's open arms. Rachel spins to look at them and smiles when Emily nuzzles her face into the crook of Quinn's neck. I pretend to put my fingers down my throat, making gagging noises. I dodge the cloth napkin Quinn throws at me but in turn get hit upside the head by Rachel.

"Okay, you people are seriously going to stop putting your hands on me." I rub my arm and pull the noodles off the stove to strain them. "Al Dante." I smile. "So... I assume you guys are staying for lunch?"

* * *

_**Aria POV  
**_

I've been with Brody for a couple of hours now and I'm just about ready to go home. After class we went to see a movie but it wasn't enjoyable. Not only did I pay for my own ticket, which I was cool with because it's not like it was a date or anything, we couldn't even finish the movie. About half way through, a kid no older than 8 years old leaned his chair back a little too far and Brody 'gently' kicked him forward. That resulted in the boy's father to flip his lid on Brody and pushed him over the row of chairs behind us. Long story short, we were asked to leave.

So, to make it up to me, Brody offered to buy me dinner, which I was excited about until... we pulled outside of The Outback Steakhouse. I hadn't eaten anything but the breakfast Santana had gotten me this morning so I wasn't going to complain. After all, it was Brody who had thought of dinner anyway.

So, that's where we currently are located. A corner booth at the front of the dimly lit steakhouse, Brody looks up from his large plate of slaughtered meat with a huge shit-eating grin. I offer a small smile and return to one of the three things on the menu without meat that I could order, all of which were appetizers, and frown.

"So, today was fun, yeah?" He says with a mouth full of masticated cow meat rolling around his tongue. I inwardly cringe at the sight. Poor cow.

"Yeah today was... awesome."

"Sorry I got us kicked out of the theater. That kid had it out for me. He slammed his chair back into my knee and that shit hurt. I kind of lost it and things got out of hand."

"Yeah, I wasn't sure that things were out of hand until... well, until the kid's dad picked you up like a professional wrestler and threw you in the row of chairs behind us." I laugh.

"He probably was." He nods animatedly and laughs. "So what's that you got there?" He points to the plate of cheese fries sitting in front of me. He reaches over and snatches a couple of fries off my plate and I can already hear Santana's voice in my head saying 'shit's not cool'.

"Um cheese fries..." I say awkwardly, trying to make conversation. "What about you?"

He smiles hugely through a mouthful of MY cheese fries and meat. "Sautéed Veal."

I nearly gag. Okay, correction: Poor _baby_ cow. The smell of this place is nauseating.

"Here try this." He cuts off a piece of his 20-ounce porterhouse steak sitting to the side on another plate. I try to politely decline but he's already wiped my mouth with the steak sauce smothered piece of meat. I press my mouth tightly together and shake my head to avoid the piece of meat in my mouth but it's too late.

I feel sick. I quickly stand up, pull a few bills out of my wallet and throw them on the table. His face drops and he quickly stands and tries to get closer but I put up a hand to stop him. I need to get out of hear before I blow chunks.

Without another word I run to the exit and begin my journey back to my apartment, on foot, wiping the butchered remains of cow from my face.

I feel like a nauseous murderer.

X

I push open the door to Santana's apartment. After two week of being in Los Angeles we established an open door policy, and we all exchanged keys to one another's apartment in case of 'emergencies'. Santana is well aware of this fact and uses it when she runs out of cereal. It had gotten so bad that I started buying an extra box of family sized fruit loops because I knew it'd only be a matter of time.

I walk into to the living room and see three of my friends lounging around the TV with Apples to Apples set out on the coffee table. There are three players present, but four sets of cards set out. "Hey!" Emily greets. I smile weakly and take a much-needed seat next to Rachel.

"What's wrong?" Rachel rubs my arm soothingly and I throw my self further into the cushions of the couch, kicking my shoes off of my aching feet. For once, she doesn't complain.

"Nothing. Just had a long day." I try to sweep everything under the rug.

"Okay, What's up? I've lived with you for over a month now, I'd like to say we're friends, and that I know you pretty well and this," She waves her hand in my direction, " is not 'nothing'." Quinn pipes up.

"You left with Brody. Didn't it go well? He didn't hurt you did he?" Rachel twists to face her, her expression worried.

"No. No, nothing like that." I shake my head. Just thinking about it makes me want to barf. I've never felt so bad and so grossed out in my life, bad for the poor tenderloin that was once a cow and grossed out because it was smeared on my face. I let out a defeated sigh. "He rubbed his meat on my face."

The gasp that the filled the room was deafening. Rachel's hand was clutching her heart, Emily's face was twisted in disgust, and Quinn's sporting a mischievous smirk. Soon after, like clockwork, Santana saunters in the room with a smirk matching Quinn's. "Who rubbed their meat on whose face?" She chuckles. "That's wanky."

Her chuckle dies out when she see the look on my face. "Wait what?" She scans the group hoping that one of us would soon provide her with an answer. Quinn chuckles but is silenced by Santana's glare.

"Sorry." Quinn puts up her hands in defense. Santana turns to me and raises one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows. She comes over to where I'm sitting and kneels in front of me.

"Who rubbed their meat on your face? Brody?" She asks and once again Quinn chuckles.

"Wait like by meat you mean... his package?" Rachel asks shyly, "And by package I mean his," She scan the room, "Penis." She whisper like it's some sort of secret. And with that Quinn is buckled over on the couch being told to 'shut up' by a pissed off Emily. I try. I try really, really hard not to laugh but I can't hold it in any longer.

Santana pulls away from me confused and scan the room. I try to kill my laughter and I'm almost successful until Santana decides to add her two cents. "What package? We all know Barbie dolls- Ken or not- don't have junk." I swat Santana playfully and I fall over on the couch laughing. Emily and Rachel also join in this time.

"Really?" Emily asks and I hope to God that she's kidding... and she's not. Damn.

Laughter dies off and silence becomes heavy. Santana clears her throat and turns to me. "So, what the hell happened?"

I sigh. "Brody and I went to a movie." I put my hand up and stop Santana's bitch fit in its tracks. I really don't want to argue tonight. "Calm down, Lima. We went to see Jurassic Park 3D. So, not a date." She huffs but urges me to continue. "Anyway we got kicked out of the theater..." Before anyone questions why I need to finish this story up. "Long story short, He took me to a steakhouse and smeared steak all over my face... And now I'm hear."

"Wait, but you're a vegetarian." Quinn states.

"Why would he take you to a steakhouse?" Emily asks.

"Because he's an idiot." Santana mumbles.

"Weren't there any fine, healthy vegetarian or vegan options?" We all shake our heads and always one for the dramatics she rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. "Despicable. Absolutely despicable."

Santana rolls her eyes and turns to me. "Well are you hungry now? We made vegan friendly pasta for lunch. I could heat you up a bowl." She smiles her signature smile and I melt. "That sound good?" She asks and I nod. It's all can manage. "Okay, I'll be right back."

She leaves to the kitchen. "Hey, San?" Quinn yells. "I don't think you're aware but um... You dropped your vagina over here by the couch. WHIPPED!"

"FUCK YOU TOO, FABGAY!" Santana yells back, but I can hear her laughing.

I smile to myself and settle back into the couch as the girls around me get back to their game, and a contented sigh passes my lips as I listen to plates rattling in the kitchen. Santana Lopez is _whipped_? By _me_? I smirk.

Now _that_ is not a bad thought.

* * *

**A/N: I'm back! And there it is, chapter 12. Written, edited, and posted. It'd be cool if you followed but even better if you reviewed. Chapter is pretty lengthy but was mostly filler. I think next chapter I'm going to take Santaria on their first official date. Whatcha think? **

**Also, trying something new... 3 reviews = next chapter. **

**I love feedback and I want to know if I'm doing anything wrong or it you'd like to see something in particular. Don't be shy. :)**

**Keep it synful, **

**Synful92**


	13. Chapter 13

_**DISCLAIMER: Sadly, I don't own Glee or Pretty Little Liars (it would be awesome though). I don't own all of the characters but I DO own the majority of this story line.**_

_A/N: This is another filler chapter and for that I am sorry but it sets up the next few chapters, which hopefully should be up soon. Also, I want to apologize to all of you readers out there for this late update. Due to recent events and fascist regime monarchy (AKA the economy), I no longer have Wi-Fi (or cable... Haven't seen PLL like all summer) and so I'm a sad panda. Talk about withdraw. :P_

_Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. It was written during a sad time, so if it sucks, I blame my antidepressants. Enjoy!_

* * *

_**Chapter Thirteen**_

* * *

_**Aria POV**_

My last class of the day has just ended and I couldn't be more thankful.

Today has been crap from the wake up, turned to hell by eight, bordering on unbelievable, absolute fuckery by the time I finally managed to get out and close the apartment door behind me at ten. Well, too bad about chemistry, some things just have to be sacrificed. Pity. But that left me with only half an hour to get to the whole other side of campus. Thank God I only had two classes, or I think I may have committed murder.

Anyway, my day really has been terrible. Let's just say it started with a nice, pleasant scalding burn in the shower (a result of painful, blurry vision caused by stabbing myself in the eye by a mascara brush, thus ruining my contact lenses and- well anyway, I couldn't see which damn knob I was turning). Next came a roller-pin getting hopelessly snarled and tangled in my hair (The bald spot isn't _that_ noticeable...I hope), followed by an hour-long struggle to find a decent dress for the day, only to trip over the stupid shag carpet in the kitchen and spill milk all over both me and the floor. And that's just a summary.

I glance down at my phone to check the time. **1:20**. I was supposed to meet my roommates for lunch twenty minutes ago. As soon as the clock hit 1:00, my phone started going off like crazy, mostly from Britt and Mercedes, wondering where I was at and if I got lost on the way to the diner.

I get to Joe's Diner in record time and it isn't hard to spot my friends in the far right corner- they're the loudest bunch in the building, everyone was there, even a few people that I've never met before. I open my purse to put away my keys, and lo and behold, one of the glasses in my favorite sunglasses has broken, apparently crushed in my bag during my mad scramble to get to the diner. I can't even find the energy to be upset.

But as I look over to my friends' table, Santana throws her head back in laughter and it's hard to suppress the goofy grin that falls across my features, despite my awful morning. I guess she can feel my gaze because when she brings her head back down here eyes meets mine and she smirks playfully. I slowly make my way to the table, adding an extra swivel in my hips. Her eyebrows practically touch her hairline and she smiles in amusement. I'm so focused on impressing San with my new Lady of the Year strut, that I'm not paying attention to where I'm going, and before I can stop my forward motion, I crash straight into a large, potted plant at the corner of one of the tables. I stumble and throw my hands out frantically, trying desperately to save both the tumbling fern and myself.

Finally I catch hold of the table, earning myself a strange look from the little girl sitting there eating with her father, and I smile apologetically as I shove the stupid flower pot back to it's proper position, and straighten my shirt, trying to save my poor, beaten pride. A glance up at Santana dashes all hopes of that, though, because she's bent double- face basically in her lap- laughing hysterically, and I seriously doubt it has anything going on at _that_ table. The others- my presence as of yet still unbeknownst to them- just stare at her in confusion until Brittany looks up and spots me sanding there, flushed, still gripping the edge of the stupid clay pot like a lifeline to Jesus.

"ARI!" Brittany squeals. I wave, say my hellos and take the seat beside Hanna, throwing a glare across the table at Santana, to which she blows a kiss in response. My face heats up, and I scan the table hoping that no one has caught our interaction. Luckily everyone was too busy with one another to notice us, and for that I am glad.

"You look hot!" Brittany adds, and I look down because with the morning rush following the milk incident, I can't really remember _what _I threw on (in the dark might I add- my wonderful light bulb blew out in the night) I let out a breath of relief that I'm not wearing anything too crazy, just your average dark wash skinny jeans and a band t-shirt that's probably a size too small. That would explain the sliver of skin that's peeking out between the bottom of the shirt and the top of the brown leather belt that I pulled from the back of my closet.

I look across the table and Santana is nodding alongside Britt, along with an Asian girl that I've never seen before. A little embarrassed by the compliment, I smile and add a 'Thank you'. Santana winks and blows me another kiss and I blush again, but still no one else seems to have noticed, and so I let her get away with that one.

Our waitress is a young, pretty girl with big, dark eyes and a bouncing brown ponytail- probably straight out of high school. As she takes our drink orders, Puck flirts his way into her bringing us free appetizers, and I roll my eyes at him, mouthing "Cradle Snatcher" at him, which he returns with a tip of an imaginary hat and a bright smile.

Santana clears her throat and stands, to my- and everyone's- surprise. "Since Aria showed up a little late, and everyone seems to have their manners lodged up their asses, I guess it's up to me to make introductions. Aria, Spencer, Emily, and Hanna, this is Boy Chang, Girl Chang, Stubbles, other gay, and uh... Sugar I guess, since I couldn't come up with anything clever just now. And you all know Sammy "Trouty Mouth" Evans, acclaimed sucker of baby's heads and all, so..."

We all awkwardly greet each other before Santana speaks again, "Oh! And before you ask or try to make any connections, no the Chang's are _not _related, but that still doesn't make them 'getting it on' any less awkward for the rest of us." Santana drops to her seat and Tina buries her face into Mike's neck. The rest of the group laughs, but us Rosewood folk just smile politely, not really knowing if there is an inside joke in play.

Santana is enamored with her phone; barely able to navigate the mozzarella sticks to her mouth without poking herself in the face. My own phone buzzes from my backpack pocket. I look over at Santana and she smirks, eyes never leaving the phone. She _would_ text me when she's only three feet away. Dork.

**New Message: Botox**.

Okay... so it's not Santana. But Botox? Who's Botox? And then it connects... Santana was playing with my phone last night after the whole meat thing with Brody. Before I open it, I shoot a quick text to Santana, telling her it's not nice to change names in other people's phones. She doesn't reply, but I see her giggle and know she's seen it. I chuckle also, and reluctantly open the message.

_**Incoming: Botox (1:33pm)**_

_U hven't returned none of my calls or txts. IDK wat I did but watevr it was im sorry. _

I pale and look around the table, simultaneously gagging at his repulsive text spelling. Seriously, we're not in high school anymore. Then suddenly my phone starts to go off, and- no surprise- it's Brody calling. It's hard not to be a little annoyed. After last night I'm not entirely sure that I'm ready to talk to him. I hate to be mean but... I'm out with my friends right now, having a good time. He's intruding on my good time. I push my chair back and head out the front door, stopping just outside the neighboring store's huge floor to ceiling windows.

"Hello." I ask coolly.

"Aria?"

_No shit, Sherlock._ I think.

I actually say "Yeah. Hey, what's up?" That's better.

"Are you okay? Have I done something wrong?" He sounds sincere but he can't be that oblivious. "It was our date last night, wasn't it?"

"Wait, what do you mean date? Brody, I dunno what last night was, but it definitely wasn't a date."

"Dinner and a movie. Sounds like a date to me." He says smugly and although I can't see him right now, I know he has a smug smirk to match his smug tone.

_Smuggy Smug Botox Pitbull Face_ I think, and then stifle my giggles at my childishness.

"Well..." I drag out humorously, "seeing half a movie, followed by sip of a soda for dinner before running out doesn't really scream romance." I chuckle.

"Okay, let me make it up to you. Braria date: round two"

"Um... Uh... Well, you see..." Crap. How do I let him down nicely? And _Braria_? Really? Gross.

"Please?"

"I can't. I'm sorry." I have to tell him that I'm seeing someone without letting him know who it is. Not that I'm embarrassed that I'm with Santana, because I'm not, but... I don't know. I just don't want to jinx whatever it is that we have going on here.

"So, I did so something wrong." He sighs and then the line goes quiet.

"Actually, I had a lot of fun with you last night Brody." _Lies._ "You were really sweet... and polite..." _More lies meat meat meat meat meat he rubbed meat on your face that's disgusting._ "I'd really like to hang out again sometime soon-" _How about never? Never sounds good to me. _ "-but as friends. Strictly platonic."

The line went silent for what seemed like forever.

"Brody, don't make me say it..." I beg. I don't want to be the person that steps on his manhood. He hums, wanting me to continue. "I'm seeing someone."

I can tell that he's shocked, and when his voice comes back on the line it's forced and shaky, trying to hide his hurt pride. "O-Okay... Wow- so soon... I mean... okay. Friends. I can do friends. I-I mean," he stutters, "We can be friends. I can do that." To his credit he actually sounds legitimately upset. "I um... I have to go. Someone's on the other line." The line's dead before I even have a chance to say goodbye.

I end the call and stare out at the horizon. I shouldn't feel guilty but I do. I don't know how long I've been zoned out but I'm pulled back to reality when I feel a warm, soft hand placed gently on my shoulder. I turn around and look up into the prettiest, most concerned, chocolate brown eyes I've ever seen.

"Hey, you okay? You kind of just disappeared." I nod and pull her into a lazy hug. She hesitantly wraps her arms around me and pulls me close. "Hey," she smiles down at me and I laugh a little bit.

"Hi." I mumble. She places a small kiss on my forehead and I pull her closer to me, grateful for the lack of windows in the front of the building to hide us from our friends.

"So how was your day?"

Her question is innocent enough, but I still groan and cringe remembering the day's events. "Ugh, please, San, don't even ask."

"That bad, huh?"

"Awful."

"Awww, poor Aria." She says, only half mocking me, and hugs me tighter.

"I know right?" I say, and we both laugh. "Well, what about yours?"

Santana looks at me sideways. "'What about _mine_?'" She repeats. "Hmmm... ya know, that's kind of suggestive Aria. I'm really surprised. I didn't have you pegged for a dirty talker."

"Oh shut up, meanie." I say, giggling, and she smiles brilliantly. Honestly I'm feeling better already. "Seriously though, how was your _day_?" I make sure to emphasize 'day'.

Santana's smile turns to an expression of deep thought, and she shrugs noncommittally. "Well, I suffered through three hour long classes- those started at 8 in the morning- and then I cleaned my room, bought some Skittles, then... I uh... took care of myself," I look up and she's grinning wide. "And now I'm here."

"Took care of yourself, what do you mean you..." And than it clicked. "Santana, Ew!" I smack her arm and try to push her away but she pulls me further into her.

"Kidding. I was only kidding." She laughs and I can't help but laugh too.

"As long as you washed your hands afterwards, then we're cool."

"Oh, totes washed my hands. No worries there." She laughs and is silent for a second. "Also, the waitress came and took everyone's orders. I got you like a rabbit tofu garden salad and a T-L-T sandwich or whatever the hell it's called."

"T-L-T?"

"Um... Tofurky, Lettuce, and Tomato. I think." I glance up, her eyes are narrowed, her nose is scrunched, and she looks thoughtful. "I'm not really sure. She put me on the spot and I so I just order something I thought was... disgusting." She mutters, and I smile as she kisses my temple.

"Hmm..." I nod. "Whatcha order for yourself?" She smirks, much like she's been doing for the past... however long I've been at Joe's. There's a pregnant pause before she runs down the list of things she's ordered. I don't know how this girl can eat that much and not gain anything.

"Don't worry... I won't rub my meat on your face." She quips and my mouth drops open for a millisecond before a shocked laugh bursts from my lips. Somehow I'm both appalled and highly amused. "Too soon?"

We pull apart and Santana turns to open the door, ushering me in with the impatient wave of her hand, and playfully smacks my butt as I clear the threshold.

"Jerk."

We take our previous seats and not long after our food arrives. For the most part, the only thing that could be heard in our caveman corner over the next 15 minutes or so was the scraping of silverware across dinnerware, cups and glasses clicking against the tabletop, and the occasional belch from Puck.

"Is there anything else I can get for you all?" The waitress asks as she clears the table. Puck smirks as if he's about to say something but Mercedes smacks him upside the head. He shrugs and pulls out his phone.

"Um... Yes." Spencer smiles. "Could we have... coffee, please?" She scans the table for the affirmative, and when no one protests she turns back to the waitress with her signature Hastings charm. "Okay, coffee it is."

"Sure thing." The waitress giggles, twirls her hair around her finger, and turns in the direction of the kitchen.

"Did she just..." Puck begins and we all nod. "Turn down a chance to be with Puckasaurus, for... for Spencer?" Puck is appalled. There is a beat or two of silence before we all burst out in laughter.

"Mmmm, _someone's_ got the hots for Hipster Hottie over there." Santana says knowingly, nudging a suggestive elbow into Spencer's side, and Spencer smacks her arm as her mouth drops open, before joining in on our laughter.

Puck drops his head, and when he raises it, he's sporting the shittiest of all shit-eating grins. He turns to Spence, "didn't know you swung that way, babe. Please tell me you'll share?" Spencer flips him off, turning away so that no one could see her sly smile, and we all fill with laughter once more.

"Don't worry boo." Santana continues, taking a sip of her water. " That waitress has lesbian written all over her." At our incredulous stares, she adds "Trust me. _I'd_ know. My gaydar is excellent." She turns a meaningful gaze to me. "Wouldn't you say so, Aria?"

My eyes widen, and I flush furiously, trying to mask my embarrassment and surprise with a sip of my own water. Aside from a curious glance from Hanna, no one else seemed to have caught anything from what she said, and I take a bite of my sandwich angrily. I try glaring at Santana, but she doesn't look up.

_What is she trying to do here? Out us? _I think bittery._ She's been dropping hints all throughout lunch, and if she thinks she's being funny- if she thinks this is just some game or something- she's dead wrong._

"Oh, guys!" Emily speaks up suddenly, thankfully swinging the conversation into a whole other direction. "Beta Theta Pi is throwing a Halloween party this upcoming Thursday, a guy I swim with was telling us this morning at practice. I hear the Betas throw one hell of a party. You guys interested?"

Everyone immediately agrees without reservations. So far we haven't really seen UCLA's party scene. We've stuck to bars and clubs, so hopefully this Halloween party will be a breath of fresh air- a window into the California soul, if you will. Also, if the party isn't as lively as planned, a couple of our friends study at USC so maybe we can catch a party or two there.

"Sweet! Halloween party on Halloween!" Caleb and Mike share a high five.

"Costumes are a must. It is Halloween after all." Emily adds. The group breaks off into countless conversations of what they're going to wear all at once. I'm not 100% certain, but I'm pretty sure I heard Brittany tell Kurt that she was going to be a peanut allergy. Regardless, the look on his face was priceless.

The waitress returns soon after, and none of us miss when she slips Spencer her number under the bill. We all whoop and holler as the waitress walks away, switching her hips the way I had been trying to earlier before the whole potted plant fiasco. Spencer blushes and stuffs it in her purse.

"Wo- woah- wait, you're keeping it?" Puck puts a halt to her actions.

"Yeah, why not?"

"I-I- I just didn't know that you," he looks her up and down, "well, you know..." He trails off momentarily before quickly adding, "It's true what they say. All of the hot chicks are married, taken, or gay." He looks around the table 'proving' his point, and I chuckle, hoping he didn't mean anything specific by that.

"Oh sweetheart, please." Kurt chimes in with mock sympathy from behind a sip of his lemonade. "Don't be so disappointed. Do you know how many years I wasted chasing after straight boys? Pshh. I mean, It's the opposite for you, but still. You get my point. It happens to the best of us. And look at me now." He picks up another, curly-haired boy's (Other Gay?) hand lovingly. "I've got Blaine."

As I mentally note the boy's name as 'Blaine', the two hold hands smile sappily at each other until Santana mimes throwing up, claiming that they're 'so gay she'll be shitting rainbows for a week just watching them' and they stop, blushing.

""Hey guys, hello? 'Not Gay' over here. Relax." Spencer tries to interject, but everyone ignores her.

"Never knew that Puckasaurus was such a crybaby." Caleb laughs and we all join in. "Want some cheese with that whine?"

"I'm not whining." Puck huffs.

Not long after that we all fall back into a comfortable conversation. Hanna stiffens next to me a couple of times. She looks completely uncomfortable but I think nothing of it until she almost jolts out of her chair. Her cheeks are flushed deep pink, her breathing is erratic, and I'm not sure but I think she's even a little sweaty.

"Hey, you okay?" I gently place my hand on her shoulder. She nods and takes a shaky sip of her coffee.

Minutes pass and Hanna seems to have calmed down. Her cheeks are no longer flushed, her breathing has returned to normal, but she's still squirming in her seat. I take in everyone at the table and the only other person that is acting even remotely weird, besides Hanna, is Santana. I think nothing of it until the table jumps about a foot from the ground, everyone startles, and Santana is wincing in pain and shoots _me_ a death glare.

Confusion. That's what I'm feeling right now. 'What?' I gesture but she just shakes her head and focuses her attention on her plate.

Soon after that weird incident, lunch ends and we all go our separate ways, sharing hugs and promises to meet up again soon. I try to stop Santana to ask her what that whole 'Hanna thing' was about but she just gives me a hug and waves me away. Utterly bewildered, I return to the parking lot, still shaking my head in confusion, and Hanna and I link arms and head to my car. Once again, my car, the red light magnet, lives up to its name. We manage to get every red light in Los Angeles.

"So, have any plans for tonight," I try.

Silence.

Actually, Hanna has been fairly quiet since we've pulled off and that's not like her at all. "Han? Hanna?" She bites her bottom lips nervously and turns to me with pleading eyes.

"If I tell you something do you promise to not make a big deal out of it?"

"Is this about what happened at Joe's?" She nods and I somehow manage to keep my eyes on the road. "Hey, talk to me." I reach over and lace our fingers together. I mean, we've been friends since middle school, so she should know by now that she doesn't have to hide anything form me. Yeah, we've had our fair share of secrets and all, but I thought we were past all of that.

"It's Santana." What? My heart stops. All of the sudden a million and one scenarios pop into my head. What about Santana? Was she all right? Was she in trouble? Is there something that I don't know about her, about her past? No, she would of told me. I think. I hope.

I don't know what to say or how to think so I keep quiet. I need to calm down. I don't even know what it is yet and my mind's already going to the worst. Man, how do I already doubt Santana? Some girlfriend I am. I mean... well, I'm not her girlfriend... We haven't really established any of that stuff yet... but still. The point stands.

"I think Santana likes me or something." There it is. The bomb has been dropped.

"I mean don't get me wrong, I'm flattered and I'm all about freedom to love whomever you want to love but um... I'm with Caleb. I'm in love with Caleb, I'm all about men, team P-E-N-I-S, y'know? But, I get it." She final takes a breath. Thank God, I was getting worried there. She went full blown Rachel Berry there for a second. "I'm hot, she's hot, and from what I hear, she's into blondes."

She grins but I'm confused.

"What do you mean 'you think Santana likes you or something'?" I ask trying not to sound jealous and definitely trying not to _out_ myself, if you can even call it that. The result of my effort is that I nearly shriek into her ear, sounding as casual as a dying seagull, but I mean hey, nothing suspicious there. Right?

"She flirts with me constantly."

"Invalid. She flirts with everyone." I defend.

"She's always finding ways and reasons to touch me."

"Okay..." Where is she going with this?

"Last Thursday." She turns so that she's completely facing me. "I came out of the bathroom and she like... she... she like caressed my lower back."

I laugh. I can't help it. "You mean last Thursday when you walked out of the bathroom and your shirt was tucked in both your skirt and your underwear? She was just helping you out."

Her cheeks are burning red and she whips around to face the road, arms crossed, obviously annoyed. "She's... well, I dunno. I just have a feeling she's into me okay."

I chuckle, " Whatever you say Hanna." I pat her thigh.

"Oh! And today at the diner... she was totally playing footsie with me under the table. Talk about aggressive." My mouth drops and I completely ignore the road, it's not important at the moment. "It was kind of nice actually. Until... I kicked the crap out of her shin..."

I veer left, almost driving into on-coming traffic. "WATCH THE ROAD!" Hanna yells and I'm quick to pull the car into the right lane. The rest of the car ride was silent. Hanna was staring blankly out of the passenger window and I was trying my hardest not to laugh. Now, it all makes sense. Hanna looking uncomfortable, the table jumping ten feet in the air, San shooting me death glares.

I practically skip the whole way to the door while Hanna drags behind. I cannot wait until I see Santana. Will she ever live this down? Probably not, it's too hilarious to just drop. And now I have ammo against any possible references to my death waltz with the potted fern.

We reach the main doors and Hanna places her hand on my shoulder. "Can we please keep this between us? I don't want to make things weird." I nod and we enter the building, but despite my good mood, I still have to wonder.

Why does Santana keep trying to out us?

* * *

_**Santana POV**_

So here I am, Santana Lopez, sitting on the bench outside of the elevator doors, waiting for Aria to walk in the door. Whipped I am not.

Lunch was awkward as hell. Not all of it, just the part when Aria kicked the crap out of my shin mid-footsie. I mean I guess that's the only way to put it. Things started off pretty playful and then she just up and kicked me. Shit hurt.

Maybe she just wasn't really into it. Looking back, she wasn't really paying much attention. She was engaged in the table's conversation. She must've said something to Hanna about it though because Hanna looked hella uncomfortable. Unless... No...

Oh my God...

I don't get chance delve deeper into that train of thought. Aria walks through the door with a huge smile on her face. I walk up to the pair and wave awkwardly. The three of us stand there, and the awkward is about as heavy as one of Finn's man boobs, so I shove my hands in my jean pockets (not an easy task by the way, girls jeans are made stupid) and shuffle a bit.

Hanna clears her throat. "Um.. well, good talk guys. I have to go um... change my feet..." She trails off weakly and runs to the elevator. Other than the ding the elevator made as it hit floor the lobby was silent.

"Okay, that was weird. Are you free? Like, do you have any other plans today?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"Well you see there's this girl that I kind like, she's about ye tall," I bring my hand up to about mid rambunctious twin to indicate her height, "She's hella cute, a little pale but that's okay because I'm into that. She's a brunette, very smart, and pretty funny I guess, unless she's making fun of me. Shit's not cool. But anyway, she usually smells like flowers and estrogen, and-"

Aria holds up a hand to cut me off. "Stop right there, San, please."

I can't help but laugh. "So, I mean, like, are you free? Cuz I'll totally cancel on the other girl. You're kinda cute too..." I give her my cheesiest grin and check her out. "Dayum!" I bite my knuckle. She laughs loudly and pushes the hell out of me. I stumble, but luckily I catch myself before hitting the wall."

"Ow!" I rub my arm, "Domestic violence!" I shout, pointing at Aria and looking wide eyed at the old man getting his mail. He just shakes his head and mumbles something about 'the kids these days' before lumbering off to the elevator.

"Come on you goof... we're taking my bike." I toss some long, dark flyaway strands of hair back over my shoulder and dig for my keys in my bag.

"Um, definitely not." Aria counters. "I'd like to live to see 25."

"You trying to say something there, Montgomery?"

"Uh, yeah. You cut corners like a mad woman, and anything you hit that's smaller than a large deer- including children- you consider to be 'road kill'."

"And?" I ask, crossing my arms.

"Children are not just 'road kill', San!" We both break up into giggle over that.

"Oh, Puh-lease. I'll have you know, I cut corners like a boss. You wish you had my whip game." I smirk, and Aria playfully rolls her eyes and loops her arm with mine. "Well, can I at least drive?"

"I suppose." She submits. We look at each other briefly and I smile. What can I say? She brings out my inner dork.

XX

Aria's car once again had managed to attract every red light in the city. We pull up to like the seventh light we've got since leaving the apartment. Aria's been on the phone since before we stepped into the car and who ever she's talking to doesn't seem to get the hint. She's been politely trying to get out of the conversation for some time now and every time she goes to hang up the person on the other side of the call starts a new conversation or some shit.

"Yes... I have to go... No, I know... We'll hang out soon... Yeah, that sounds awesome... No, we will... We will hang out... uh huh... But seriously, I like, have to go... Yes, I know..."

I roll my eyes and snatch the phone out of her hands.

"What? Aria?" Of COURSE it would be Brody. This is just perfect.

"Do I sound little and sweet and Caucasian? No Sherlock. Santana Diabla Lopez, at your service. I'm afraid Aria is unavailable at the moment. She had to go do enjoyable things, like have her teeth pulled by a rabid monkey in a bowtie." He stumbles over his words, trying to find something snarky to come back with. Nothing. "Also, your abs are starting to sag. Tone that."

I can almost see him touching his abs nervously through the phone. "Santana! Just- will you give Aria back the damn phone!? This is ridiculous." Ooh, Botox is getting a little frisky.

"Listen freak. You don't seem to understand plain English coming from Aria, so now I'm going to try. She has shit to do. She doesn't want to talk to you. "

"What? Why?" He asks.

"Why?" I pause to consider. "Because fuck you. That's why." I end the call, not even caring that Brody is now yelling at me on the other end, and Aria's glare is burning right though me. "What?" I play dumb.

"Don't play dumb Santana. Why do you have to be such a bitch to him all of the time? What has he done to you, honestly?" She crosses her arms and turns to me. I go to open my mouth but the car behind me beeps its horn. The light finally turned green. Thank goodness. Our luck ends as soon as we hit the next block. Yup, another red light.

I sigh and turn to Aria. "Okay, one, I am a bitch. Always have been and probably always will be. Two, three, and four... He bothers me. I definitely don't trust him- I mean, Botox is the fruit of Satan's butthole, and anyone who uses that unnatural shit is untrustworthy- and because I don't trust him, I definitely don't like him. He's sketchy as hell, Aria."

"Wow, never took you as the jealous, irrational type. We're just friends. Just like we were friends." She turns her back to me.

"We were never just friends, you know that." I bite back. "Can't you just trust me when I say that there is something off with that guy?" One week in and we're already fighting. Yeah, this is promising.

"Look, I don't want to fi-" a knock on the window breaks my train of thought. Both Aria and I jump at the sudden noise. Slowly, I turn my head in the direction of the disturbance and come eye to eye with a grey, grizzly bearded, scarf wearing, blue-eyed man in a stained, brown jacket.

My guess, he's homeless.

"Spare change?" He rattles an old coffee can full of change. I scan the car for any loose change lying around and grab a handful of coins. I go to roll down the window but one of Aria's little hands stops me.

"Wait."

"What? He needs this a hell of a lot more than we do."

"I just... I don't know."

I roll down the window and pour the handful of change into the can. He smiles politely and thanks me before stalking off. I look to the light in front of us and it's _still_ red. _Did I miss the light change?_

"As I was saying... " Once again, I am interrupted by a knock on the window. The same man from only minutes ago is now on the passenger side scaring the hell out of Aria and rattling the coffee can.

"Spare change?" Aria is scoots back until she is practically sitting in my lap. I gently place Aria back in the passenger seat and step out of the driver door. I step around to the front of the car and stare over the hood.

"Sir, we've given you all of the spare change that we had." I offer him my best fake smile and he looks from Aria to me and then back to Aria.

"My apologies ma'am." He arches forward and bows, stretching his worn fedora out to me. I mumble something very similar to 'It's cool' and step back into the car. All the while, the light is still red.

The car is now silent, the sky is still blue, the light is still red, and Aria's still pissed.

Talk about awkward.

We stare out into the nothingness, waiting for the light to change, or in my case waiting for all of the awkward to end. The car rattles and the back end dips a bit. I look in the rearview mirror and see two legs clad in ripped jeans and a stream of yellow hitting the back window of the Aria's '67 Comet.

_The fuck?_

"What is he doing?" Aria whips around, eyes wide and mortified. "Oh my God, what the _hell_ is he doing?! Oh God, no no no no no no no not my car!" Aria fumbles with the handle, scrambling to get out of the car but I stop her. Last thing I need is for her to get hurt. Hurt my girl; deal with me, and that's just something no one wants to happen.

Putting a comforting hand on her arm, I say, "I got this." She jerks her arms away and stares out the other window. Well, so much for appreciation.

I climb out of the car and slam my door, walking to the back of the car and grabbing the bum by the tattered sleeve of his old brown jacket. He has to have beat the world record by now. Dude is still flowin'. "The fuck you doin'?!" I yell.

I try to yank him down off of the car at arm's length, but he only falls to his back on the trunk, hot yellow piss spraying up and everywhere as his pants fall to his ankles. I shriek as I duck, trying desperately to avoid coming in contact with his hairy ass cheeks or his golden shower. If that were to happen, I know for certain they'd have to lock me up in mental health facility. If not jail.

That's hard to do though, while still maintaining my grip on him, and now he's screaming too. "Ahh! Let go-a me bitch! I'm-a pissin all _over _myself!"

"Get your ass off our car!" I drag him off the trunk to the ground, and people are starting to crowd around on the nearby sidewalks. I look up, and holyfuckingshitareyoukiddingme the light is still red. No fucking way.

The bum hits the ground hard, but he's quick to jump to his feet and yank up his pants. "Now get out of here!" I push him hard and watch him stumble in the opposite direction. I let out a sigh of relief, but apparently it's a bit too soon because he snaps around and starts kicking the crap out of the car.

"Hey!" I run up behind the man and pull him back but he's too strong.

"Fuck yo' car, bitch! Fuck yo' car!" He chants over and over again, all the while putting dings and dents all over the rear quarter panel. Aria is in a state of shock. Her mouth is hanging open and she's catching flies. Although she's not doing much, I can see tears silently falling down her face. This damn psych ward hobo is pulling an R. Kelly on her pride and joy- her vehicular baby. She worked her ass off to get this car, and now it's dented and coated in a drunken, homeless man's piss.

Cars are beeping behind us and the guy is still putting up a hard fight. I look up and the stoplight has finally turned green.

"Alright dude, enough is enough!" I grit my teeth and thrash the man in my arms to the ground. With a forceful kick to his rear and some choice Spanish words, I send the man running down the street in fear. _I hope._

I wipe whatever germs the hobo might have been housing on his body off of mine and run back into the car, slamming the door and cutting off the cheers of the street people behind me. "Hey, hey, you okay?" I pull Aria against me and hold her tightly.

Sobs wrack her body and she's clinging to me for dear life. "Babe, baby, calm down. It's okay, he's gone." She mumbles something the crook of my neck but between the sobbing and being distracted by her lips brushing across my skin I missed what she had said. I run my hand up and down her back and coax her to repeat what she said.

She pulls away and rests her head on my shoulder. "He... peed... on... my car." She says between labored breaths. I just hold her for a minute because I'm not sue what else to do. Cars are speeding around us, beeping and shouting, but I just hold her.

Her body starts to shake, and at first I'm scared, but then I realize she's _laughing_. Like, legitimately_ laughing_. "What's so funny, Ar?" I ask, genuinely confused

She sits back, wiping her face, and bursts out in laughter that I just have to join in. "He peed on my car and..." She buries her face in my jacket, "and... And you literally _kicked _his_ ass_."

I laugh in relief and sigh. " Hey, let's get out of here, kay?" I lean forward and wipe her remaining tears. "We'll get some well deserved ice cream... at that place we like on the pier. Sound good?" I get her to smile and that's all I can ask for right now.

I start the car and go to pull off, but jerk to an abrupt halt. Red light.

_This is some bullshit!_

XX

"You feeling better?" She nods and leans her head on my shoulder. I pull her closer to me and sigh, watching the darkening sunset play on the deep blue water, which is almost completely still. This is nice. Just me, my girl, and ice cream on the pier. Today didn't go as expected, but this isn't a bad substitute.

We've been on the pier for a while, sitting on a bench looking out at the ocean. Time seems to have flown by, especially after the whole 'You're a bitch' and the hobo debacle. In that we've found out that I am a bitch, obviously, but it's not like I pretend to be anything different. I keeps it real and I'm hilarious.

So, I'm a bitch? Sorry, not sorry. It's just how I am, who I am, and I'll be damned if I change that for anyone. The whole hobo incident though has taught me many things. Such as:

_Don't drive through Beverly Hills after the lunch rush._

Not only is the traffic crazy but also the stoplights in that particular area are determined to ruin our lives. A red light should not hold up anyone for 12 minutes. I couldn't make that's crap up if I tried. 12 minutes. Shit be cray.

_Don't piss off your lady friend because her friend is a douche._

_Admit defeat. Even though you know that they know that you're right. Just... _

Swallow you're pride. Don't fall into an argument, even when you know you're right and her gay-dar lacking man-friend is a Botoxed Pennywise the Clown.

_Ice cream fixes everything._

It really does. It fixes broken hearts, menstrual cramps, bad grades, hangnails, rainy days, Rachel's monologues, Rachel's vegan waffles, bad TV show finales, bad TV shows, Rachel's TV shows... Well, you get it.

"I'm sorry. I kind of overreacted earlier," She's no longer transfixed on the ocean and is now looking at me, "Okay, for really overreacting earlier."

"It's cool. You can't help it that you're friend is a total creep." She smacks my arm. "Ow! It's true! Like, the Pedo-Bear Pennywise of Cali. He-" I stop there, remembering numbers 2 and 3 on my lessons of the day, and just smile.

"Santana!" She laughs. "I know you don't like him but he's my friend. He has the only friend I've made here thus far, besides you Lima folk. He's nice."

"He's creepy and he likes you. In the words of a wanna-be-popular r&b artist out there- and yes I know which rapper it is but I'm not going to waste my breath trying to explain it to you because you still won't know who I'm talking about- anyway, in his words, 'I hit it first'."

"Ray J. And really, Santana?"

"I'm impressed." I smirk.

"And a liar. You haven't hit anything." She laughs and swipes a spoonful of my ice cream.

"Yet." I kindly return the favor and steal some her ice cream. I stick out my tongue and we laugh. We go back and forth like this for a while until our ice cream is long gone and the sky has burned it's golden sunset into near twilight. Each passing minute brings us closer, snuggling further and further into each other.

A yawn bursts our own little cuddle bubble (Yeah, I like to cuddle. Step to me) and I awkwardly bend my neck to look down at Aria. "You ready to go home?" She shakes her head and pulls me closer.

"Not yet. I like this, the two of us just hanging out, everything being so carefree."

I kiss the top of her head, "I agree."

"Aria?" I ask. She doesn't say anything, and finally I realize I never said anything at all. _Wow, smooth Santana, smooth. _I clear my throat and try again. "Aria?" She shuffles a bit and sits up waiting for me to continue. "You think you'd be interested in... like, um... going out- like, y'know, _outside_... and such... with me tomorrow night, maybe dinner and a movie or whatever?"

I shrug trying to be nonchalant about the whole thing but damn I'm nervous. Fuck this.

"Dinner and a movie?" Aria asks coyly, smirking at my reddened face. "Hmm... I think they have a name for that."

Oh, so now she's gonna play _that _game. I wipe the sweat from my palms on my jeans and swallow the lump in my throat. "A date," I let out.

"Right, a date." She beams.

"So what do you say, you wanna be romanced by this fine-as-hell Latina?" Confidence regained. Kinda. I just pray that she doesn't say 'no'.

She brings her hand to my cheek and leans in until over lips are ghosting over each other. Then she smiles a little and her yes travel to my lips. I lick my own lips on instinct and try to prepare myself for what's about to happen. "About damn time," she whispers and pulls away.

I'm shut down cold. I know I was kind of wary the other day about what ever it is that we have going on between us, but I don't know if I can do this anymore. Not the relationship, I mean. I can do that forever. The _fear_ is what I mean. I don't know if I can do the _fear _anymore. The fear is keeping me on edge. I'm tired of walking on eggshells around this girl. She deserves to be romanced. She deserves to be treated like... like... Well, I hate to say 'queen', because that's so played out and cliché... but it's true.

She starts to shiver a bit and leans even closer yet into me, which I definitely don't mind, but it's getting late and I've got a date to plan. "Let's get you home." I rub my hands up and down her arms to warm her up before helping her to her feet.

"Alright, _babe_." She grins at me slyly before bending down to gather her things from the sand.

"Babe?" I'm confused. Where did _that_ come from?

"You called me that earlier when you were trying to calm my hysterics, Miss Diabla Lopez."

And then I remember...

"Shit! Ar, I'm sorry. I didn't even realize. If it makes you uncomfortable then I wo-" She puts her hand lightly on my wrist and shakes her head.

"No, It's fine. I like it." She smiles and walks off. I'm cemented to the boardwalk with giddiness, elated by the turn of today's events. Let's recap, shall we? I had lunch with the best group of people a gal could ask for, watched Puck get shut down by the waitress who found Spencer a lot more interesting, felt up Hanna (by accident... dunno how I'm going to fix that one), hung up on Brody, kicked a hobo's ass (literally), and asked Aria out on a date. Seems Legit.

"Come on, Pookie! Mama wants to go home!" Aria yells breaking me out of my reverie.

"Who the hell you callin' Pookie?!" I snap, laughing as I follow her. All I hear in reply is a loud laugh from her, and a couple of chuckles from the people around us. I glare at everyone around me.

"I ain't no damn Pookie!" I mumble and walk after her with my head down and a bruised ego.

* * *

_**Aria POV**_

We're standing outside of Santana's apartment. It's been a long, interesting day, and although I don't want my time with San to end, I also know that we both have things that have to be done tomorrow. For example, I promised Emily and Mercedes that I'd do something or another with them tomorrow. What it is, I'm not sure. We could say I was fairly distracted.

Ahh... the awkward goodbye at the end of the night, it's just as bad as trying to say bye to someone you like on the phone. You know the whole 'you hang up first', 'no you hang up first' thing, only it's a lot worse in person.

All I really want to do is be bold and pull her close, locking our lips together in something heated (okay maybe not _heated_... maybe something lukewarm at most) but I don't want to push her to far. Yeah, she's Santana Lopez and from what I hear she has a very..._ colorful_ (no pun intended) reputation but I don't believe everything I hear. Maybe Santana once was that person, but I have yet to see her do the things I've been told she has done. I haven't even heard her talk about those things, at least not to me. So who knows?

What I do know is that she tenses up when I hug her, she's walking on eggshells around me like she's afraid to even touch me, hold me, kiss me. We've only really kissed, like_ kissed _kissed, once, maybe twice and that was after we hadn't talked in two weeks. I don't really count the time on the ferris wheel. Yeah, technically that was our first kiss but that wasn't like _the kiss. _I mean, because... Well, I just...

Anyway...

I don't know what I'm doing wrong, I'm afraid to do anything too sudden really. I know I'm fairly new to the whole same sex relationship thing (well, kinda) but it has to be something I'm not doing right. Maybe, it's all so confusing because with Ezra things were so different. Within an hour of knowing each other, he already had me hoisted up on the bathroom counter (I'm not a slut or a Girl Scout, I swear). He took charge, and although things were complicated between us for a long time, the fear wasn't there.

_And why the hell is Santana looking at me like that?!_

Without warning Santana pulls me out of my internal monologue and into her, locking her lips to mine. On instinct, I pull her closer to me, wanting to feel her body against mine, wanting to push my fears away, and more importantly, wanting to ease hers. I respond to her, leaning in closer than humanly possible, and savoring the moment. Santana's tongue swipes my bottom lip, begging for entrance. Well, since she asked nicely... Pshh, who am I kidding?

Access granted.

There is no battle for dominance, just pure exploration of the new territory we have discovered. Tongues explore mouths and when they meet, Santana lets out a muffled moan that has chills running down my spine. This is it, this is the kiss I've been waiting for, the kiss I've been craving. It's like Santana read my mind. All of the build up, the teasing, and the occasional peck on the lips or on the cheek has surfaced, they exploded, but it has all led us to this moment, this beautiful, beautiful moment.

We stay like this for a while, only pulling away occasionally for air. It's like we've been doing this forever, we're completely in sync. Her lips are so full and so soft, pure bliss.

And then out of nowhere, the door we'd been leaning against (busy soiling with our lust and lesbian finesse) gave way, and we tumbled to the ground, lips still locked, and landed at a pair of feet, clad in shiny purple pumps and bright pink toenails. Both Santana and I looked up with wide, guilty eyes into a familiar face, and the owner of these magnificently manicured feet spoke then, and with one word shattered my whole world.

"Caught."

* * *

**A/N:**

So what did you think?

By the way, I know I touched on a sensitive topic there earlier with Finn's man boobs and all, and I just wanted to say that it was purely with good intentions. Y'know, kinda trying to keep the memory alive in all the positive light that was Cory Monteith. So if you guys did or didn't like it, just let me know. If it's not cool with you guys, I won't do it anymore, because, like I said, I know that's still a sensitive topic to everybody, and we're all still going through it together.

And on that note, I'd like to say Rest In Peace to the incredible talent that was Cory Monteith, beloved by all, and an inspiration left forever in our hearts.

"He didn't die. He took the midnight train going anywhere."


End file.
